How Far
by L-chan
Summary: How far will you go for a friend? How far will others go to stop you? Guy/Natalia. WIP
1. Chapter 1

L-chan's Notes: This is my first multi-chapter fic for this fandom and pairing. As such, I appreciate any and all feedback. Thank you very much for reading.

* * *

How Far

Chapter 1

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"C'mon, baby," Guy coaxed. Gentle caresses and encouraging words were only getting him so far. It was time for some action.

He flipped the switch and waited for the motor to whir to life. Reluctant and petulant like a child, it took its sweet time, starting slow, then picking up speed. "Thatta girl." For two days he'd been trying to get this damned thing to obtain and sustain its momentum. If it was working now, it was only because he'd exhausted every other possible solution. "Thatta girl!" The motor spun faster, clicking with the beautiful sounds of success.

Then it sputtered and let out a resounding _clank_ before stopping altogether.

"Shit." At least he didn't get a face full of black smoke this time.

"My lord, forgive my untimely intrusion."

His valet's words made him look up for the first time in hours. Merton never came to the workshop. It was Guy's one room of organized chaos—the one room he insisted no one touch—which left the persnickety valet twitching in discomfort.

"Yes, what is it?"

"My lord, Her Highness Princess Natalia has arrived and wishes to speak with you." Merton's tone and expression suggested a life spent sucking on lemons.

"Huh?"

"By your pithy response, I take it Her Highness was not expected. Should I request she return with a proper appointment?" Only Merton would stand on such ceremony. Natalia was one of Guy's oldest friends. And that aside, Guy would never dare snub her, princess or not.

"Oh, for goodness sake, Merton." Natalia squeezed her way past and into the workshop, her skirts swishing with impatience. "He'll receive me. He knows what will happen if he doesn't."

Guy quickly stood up. Despite his valet's concerns, Guy's manners had always been impeccable. "Your Highness," he said with a deep bow conveying his respect for her, yet at the same time mocking Merton's desire for proper protocol. "This is a delightful surprise."

Her smile looked a bit forced, preoccupied. "I apologize for not drafting an official document stating my desire for an audience. Next time I shall submit my request in triplicate, if you prefer." Her hazel eyes slanted toward Merton. The two of them were often at odds over the informality of her friendship with his employer and her tendency to order the household staff about as if they were her own.

"On the contrary, I am most honored by your presence." As the one who had to live with Merton, Guy would be as formal as necessary. Unfortunately, he was still going to get a lecture about his shabby appearance. His work clothes consisted of an old shirt and trousers, stained with a smudge of grease here and there, and he wiped the sweat from his forehead with an equally old rag, then stuffed it in his back pocket. He could practically hear Merton cringing. "If you'd like to wait in the parlor, I'll go and make myself more—"

"No, this is fine," she interrupted. "I'd like to see what you're working on, if I may."

It was highly unlikely that Natalia had come all the way to Grand Chokmah just to see his latest project. "As you wish."

"If I may register an objection, my lord, the parlor would be more suitable—"

"Your objection is noted, Merton, thank you." This was Guy's house. It was only fair that he get to interrupt, too. "Please have some tea and sandwiches prepared." This was more a personal desire than a show of hospitality. He'd worked straight through lunch again, and hunger was starting to gnaw a hole through his stomach. "Proper sandwiches, not those tiny cucumber things you usually insist upon."

"Yes, my lord." Merton bowed before taking his leave, his disapproval wafting from him like cheap cologne.

Guy let out an exhausted sigh. Dealing with Merton made him feel like he was still an obsequious errand boy rather than the heir to House Gardios. "Forgive my rudeness, Your Highness." He pulled the room's only chair away from his drafting table and offered it to her. "Please make yourself comfortable."

Once seated, she smoothed her skirts and crossed her ankles. "You can drop the formality now, Guy."

"Okay. Hey, Nat, how's it hangin'?"

She rolled her eyes. "Somewhere between the two extremes will suffice."

So she wasn't in the mood for jokes. Whatever had brought her here must be serious. "Sorry. So, what's up? I didn't know you were going to be in town."

"No, neither did I. This was a rather spontaneous trip." She plucked idly at the folds of her skirt as she glanced around the workshop. "What are you building?"

"Ah, that's highly classified." Some sketches still sat on his drafting table, and her quick eyes found them. On top was a drawing of a wheel assembly with some notes about balance, pressure, dimension, and some other numbers that wouldn't mean much to her. "It's kind of a friendly competition between me and Ginji. Wait, you're not here to spy for him, are you?"

At that she finally laughed. "Yes, I'm a spy. How very clever of you to catch me out."

He grinned back at her, relieved to see her relaxing for the first time since she'd stepped in the room. "All for the glory of Kimlasca, right? Can't have me showing up Sheridan's best."

"Oh, that's just the tip of the iceberg, as it were. First I use my title to force my way into your house, drink your tea and eat your sandwiches, and then… I can't tell you that part, yet, can I?"

She was enjoying her little story, and he was more than glad to play along. "If I'm not careful, you'll use your feminine wiles to abscond with my heart and my secrets. Well, Your Spyness, my heart you can have, but my secrets I'll never give up."

A peculiar expression crossed her face, and her smile disappeared as she looked away again. Something he'd said must have hit on her reason for visiting.

"Hey," he said quietly. "What's wrong?"

She chose to stare intently at the drawing on his table. "I didn't come for tea and sandwiches."

"I didn't think you did. I don't exactly live next door."

There was no follow-up to this statement. Anything she'd been about to say remained unspoken for the moment. Her finger traced the outline of the wheel. "So it's something with wheels and a motor. Is that what Ginji's doing, too?"

"Natalia."

Still she avoided his eyes. "I need a favor."

"Okay."

"A very, very big favor."

He leaned against the drafting table with his arms folded and waited for her to look at him. "You can ask me. If it's within my power, I'll do it." The more she hesitated, the more concerned he became. There weren't many people he was this loyal to, whom he'd drop everything to help if they were in trouble. That she'd travelled so far just to see him spoke to the urgency of the situation.

As he watched, the hesitation slowly left her demeanor, replaced with determination. Her shoulders squared, her chin lifted, and she looked him directly in the eye. Good, this was the Natalia he knew.

"Guy."

"Yeah."

"Will you marry me?"


	2. Chapter 2

How Far

Chapter 2

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Natalia was not usually suspicious when she was excluded from the Royal Council sessions. Such instances were rare, and she knew her father would share the pertinent details with her anyway. At present her attendance was not mandatory, but this would all fall to her one day, and the more she understood the Council's workings, the better prepared she would be when it was her time to rule.

Most of it came down to the basic game of politics, balancing the needs of the country against the overbearing personalities of the Council members, each with their own opinions and agendas. What could seem so clearly right to her was not as obvious to a room full of men twice her age, and these differences often resulted in heated debates and stubborn deadlocks. She had learned just how many ways there were to view a situation, how many angles and perspectives were hidden below the surface of any issue. The final decision rested with the monarch, but the recommendations of the Council were invaluable, once one had the experience and discernment necessary to parse all available information.

It was crucial to learn who could be trusted, and who could not. To know who was working for the good of the kingdom, and who was working for his own ends. This she had observed firsthand, and she was determined not to repeat her father's mistakes.

The antique clock in the private dining room struck the hour, each chime echoing to underscore the empty chair at the opposite end of the table.

The session was running late. What could they be discussing? It was peacetime, but there were still military and intelligence matters to contend with. Or perhaps it was something as simple as renegotiating trade agreements.

However, her curiosity was more about why she was not included. It was one thing to forgo the session in order to focus on her other duties, and quite another thing to be told that she was barred from entering the chamber. Nothing made a person more interested in a meeting than deliberate exclusion from it.

One of the kitchen maids appeared in the doorway. "I beg your pardon, but would Your Highness like us to serve now?"

Natalia ran her finger along the engraved handle of her silver fork. "His Majesty will be along shortly. Please wait until then." Dinner was their special time together, to relax and talk after their separate days, and their unspoken rule was to give the missing party half an hour to appear. Unless she was suffering from spectacular hunger, she tended to give her father as much time as he needed.

"Of course, Your Highness," the maid answered with a demure bow of her head. The staff always asked the same question, and the princess always gave the same answer. "Would Your Highness like the wine poured?"

"That would be lovely, thank you." There was no unspoken rule about drinking.

Since she was a child, she played a little game and tried to guess how many sips it would be before her father joined her. As a child, she had played the game with milk, not alcohol. This adult version required more moderate sipping.

She had only made it halfway through her first glass when the king appeared.

"I apologize for the delay," he said.

"Fifteen minutes is not a delay," she replied. "How was your day, Father?"

He shook his head and sighed. Plates were quickly and quietly placed in front of them, almost as if they had appeared by magic, so unobtrusive was the staff. "Tell me of yours first, Natalia."

She did so, relaying her meetings with the hospital board. "We discussed the budget for the new annex, and while the board has requested additional funding, I believe there are some spending cuts that should be made as well. They will be preparing an amended proposal for our next meeting. Once the budget is approved, construction can begin immediately."

"Good, good." Her father seemed distracted, and she wondered if he had heard her fully. "I trust you to handle that as you have."

"Yes, Father." He had heard her, but he wasn't looking at her. "Is everything all right?"

"I don't quite know." Still exhibiting proper, regal manners, he somehow finished his entire glass of wine before setting it down again. His dinner remained untouched. "The Council is concerned about the order of succession, and to a point, I must agree."

"Father—"

"Let me finish. To that end, it is the will of the Council that your betrothal to Luke be reinstated."

No. No, this could not be.

"He is of royal blood, and no one can deny that the best course is for the line to continue through the two of you. Together," he added unnecessarily.

"Luke has chosen his path, Father." Despite his instruction, she couldn't help interrupting. "We owe it to him to let him have that. He does not want this." And neither did she. She loved Luke dearly as her cousin and friend, but she did not want to marry him.

The path Luke chose led to Daath. He had joined the Oracle Knights after all, in honor of Ion and Asch, and even Van, he'd sometimes admit. His parents had supported his decision with the understanding that when the time came, he would return to Baticul to inherit his father's title.

Luke's decision also allowed him to remain with Tear. Natalia would not come between them. She wished them the greatest of happinesses and would never take that away.

"I know," her father answered. His sigh was weary, his eyes tired. "Thus I have issued an alternative. You will be allowed to choose your own husband. However, to obtain the Council's support, you must do so by your twenty-fifth birthday."

"But that's next month!"

"Yes. If you have not made an acceptable decision at that time, you _will _marry Luke."

She couldn't do that. She couldn't. "Father…."

"I understand, Natalia. I would not ask you to do this if I did not agree that it was important. The order of succession must be secured. Some would say I have been too lenient in not insisting before now, but I knew I had to allow you to come to terms with your grief in your own time, and to decide for yourself when you would be ready to accept a new suitor. But so far, you have made no attempt to consider an alternative."

The suitors that had been put in her path were hardly what she would call alternatives, unless the alternative was death, and even then, it would take more than a moment's deliberation.

"If not Luke," the king continued, "there is still Duke Creemore's son."

Natalia made a face that suggested her roast duck had been replaced with a plate of live worms. "Alfred Creemore is a complete… twit." She substituted a more polite but less accurate word than the one that came to mind when she pictured his insipid face. "He'd just be his father's puppet. You know that."

"The Creemores are ambitious, it's true."

"Not ambitious. They're vile." Her father may have been able to forgive and forget, but it was not a virtue she shared in this particular case. She knew that Duke Creemore did not like her, and no matter how he publicly regretted and renounced his part in encouraging the execution of her and Luke as imposters, she was sure that privately, his feelings had not changed. Even if Luke did have royal blood, Duke Creemore would never support him as her husband when the chance to make his own son king was right before him.

Like hell she'd give him the opportunity.

"Natalia." Her father had to have sensed her thoughts, and she tried to school her features into a more pleasant display. Her scowl should not be directed at him. "I trust you to make the right choice, and I will ensure that the Council stands by it."

"But I only have until next month?"

"This is the best solution I can offer. I need to know that the succession is secured."

Something in his tone startled her. He was not an old man, or in ill health, that she was aware of. "Father?"

"No, don't worry, my dear. I'm not going anywhere yet. But it is every parent's desire to know that his child's future is settled. In our positions, such knowledge is even more imperative."

"Yes, Father." On that level, she understood. If anything were to happen to the king, the order of succession needed to be in place, in stone. She knew there were still those, such as Duke Creemore, who believed she had no right to the throne, and without her father here to keep them at bay, she could find herself presented with another poisoned goblet, if not something much worse.

She had to marry while it was still her choice, while her father was still here to support her.

A parade of faces floated through her mind and swirled around in the fig sauce on her plate. Yes, she had rejected every prospective suitor presented to her at balls and other functions. How ironic that among so many noblemen, there were so few noble men.

It wasn't that she was holding out for true love. She knew better than that. She just wanted someone she could stand.

With that limited criterion, the field of prospective grooms was reduced to two, and one of them was Luke.

This made her decision quite easy.

The next day, she left for Grand Chokmah.


	3. Chapter 3

How Far

Chapter 3

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In the long seconds since Natalia had spoken, the surprised expression on Guy's face remained fixed in place, like he was posing for the world's most awkward portrait. She watched his jaw twitch slowly, back and forth, as he tried to remember how it worked and formed words. "What?"

"I need you to marry me." Rephrasing her question didn't make it any less imperative. Her voice remained strong, no trace of her desperation in her request. He blinked at her, a sign that his initial reaction was wearing off, and she knew she had to explain. "If I don't choose someone to marry by my next birthday, the Royal Council will force me to marry someone completely unsuitable." She left Luke out of the equation. Luke was not an option, and she would not complicate things by mentioning him here.

Besides, she wasn't convinced that she wouldn't end up standing next to that odious Alfred Creemore.

"So…." He drew the word out as he assimilated this information. "You choose me?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

This was something she'd rehearsed during the long voyage to Grand Chokmah. "A marriage between my country and yours will be beneficial for international relations. We can represent this peace and remind everyone that this time, it can last. We can be the symbol your cousin and General Frings never got to be. And your input from the Malkuth perspective can aid Kimlasca in our future dealings."

"For political reasons, basically."

"Yes, in part. It never hurts to be practical."

"True," he said, nodding. If he had been anyone else, she would have sworn he was mocking her. "What's the other part?"

"Pardon?"

"You said 'in part'. That means there's more to it." Guy shrugged in that nonchalant way of his. If he were mocking her, he was being incredibly subtle about it. "There's any number of Malkuth noblemen who'd be perfectly willing to marry you. Why did you pick me?"

It was a valid point. "Because my family owes you, both for Hod and for the unfair accusations against the Cecilles." Politics had also been the reason for his parents' marriage, and she was determined to right the wrongs done to his family.

"So, guilt."

He always could see through her. "No." Her seated position made her feel vulnerable and insignificant as he stood looking down at her. She was sure that wasn't his intention, but she got to her feet all the same. "Even so, it would go a long way toward making reparations if a Cecille were in position to be king."

He was shaking his head. "No. I don't want that."

She knew he wouldn't, and his refusal made him the ideal candidate. The power hungry nobles would step over themselves to flatter her first and stab her in the back later, destroying everything she and her father had worked so hard to achieve. Guy shared her ideals and her desire to maintain this peace, and she could count on his support without the worry that he would undermine her at every turn to increase his own influence. "Your children, then. If you marry me, the royal line will have Cecille blood."

One of his eyebrows cocked at this, intrigued. "Children. You know that means you and I would have to…."

"Yes, I am aware of that." Natalia's cheeks flushed hotly, but she wouldn't look away. That was something else she'd spent too much time thinking about during the long voyage. Their marriage would have to be consummated, of course, and an heir produced. This fact had not escaped her. The idea of lying with him was embarrassing, although, she had to admit, far from repulsive.

She had to keep her eyes on his, even as her face was burning like a sunset.

"You just thought about it, didn't you?"

"Certainly not." Two sunsets.

He laughed. "Yeah, me too." Unless she was mistaken, his laugh wasn't as casual as he wanted it to be. A careless hand raked through his hair, making it stick out more than usual. "I have to say, that's your most convincing argument so far." Teasing her was second-nature to him, his way of disarming her, but there was something different here, this acknowledgement of an attraction to each other as man and woman. They had flirted before, and often, but always on a superficial level. With the potential—no, the impending reality—of becoming more than friends, there was a new layer rumbling underneath everything they said.

What was she getting herself into?

"Okay, so we've covered politics and guilt and heirs. Anything else?" His clear blue gaze never left her.

Politics and guilt and heirs. Practical, generic reasons that could apply to anyone.

She was fooling herself if she thought those were her only reasons for asking him.

"I've chosen you because I trust you, Guy." Forgetting the practical, political advantages, this was what it all came down to. She trusted him. She respected him. "Because you know me like no one else does." Their friendship may have developed out of odd circumstances, a princess and a servant who were both more and less than they claimed to be, but everything they'd been through together had cemented a bond between them that few others would ever understand. He knew her secrets, and she knew his.

He'd been there when she needed a friend most. Those first nights after Asch died, Guy was the one who had stayed up with her, listening to her, letting her cry on his shoulder, and then, when she was all cried out, getting her drunk and making her laugh.

If he could get her through that, he could get her through anything.

At the heart of it, she didn't want a practical, political marriage. This was going to be for the rest of her life. She wanted someone special by her side. Someone she cared about. "And because… I'm very fond of you, Guy."

He smiled at that, this time with no trace of teasing to be found. This smile was softer, lending an intimacy that wrapped around her, making her feel warm all over. "Now, was that so hard?" Even his voice was softer, lower, a hum that buzzed up and down her spine.

Of course. She'd been appealing to his logical side, when she should have been appealing to his romantic side. Who wanted a proposal that treated the recipient as a commodity? Wouldn't he rather hear that he meant something to her, instead of focusing on what he could do for her? The only way she could have been more impersonal and insulting is if she had sent a messenger with a royal decree. "I'm sorry." She bowed her head briefly in apology before looking at him again. "I should have started with that."

"Nah, it's okay."

"No, it isn't. I've done to you what's being done to me, and I should know better."

He gave a careless shrug. "I'm getting used to it. The families around here see me as a title first and a fortune second. Well, except those that see the fortune first. My being a person doesn't really figure into it."

"Welcome to my world. It's fun, isn't it?" See, she could make sardonic jokes, too. "But, truly, you shouldn't expect that dismissive sort of attitude from me. I'm very sorry."

"I know you didn't mean it that way. Besides, your reasons are compelling, I'll give you that. I'd be an idiot to hold out for a better offer." There was that smile again.

Perhaps she'd like this new layer. Even if they weren't a love match, a match between friends was the next best thing. Some people weren't that lucky. "So, you'll do it?"

He started to say something, then shook his head. "Wait. No. I'm only going to get one chance to do this, so let me do it right."

In his old shirt and grease-streaked pants, in a cluttered room of metal tools and half-finished mystery machines, in a room that smelled faintly of oil and sweat and concentration and other masculine things, he knelt before her. It wasn't anything like she pictured the moment. It wasn't a moment she'd ever pictured at all.

Still, there was a fluttering in her heart, anticipating his words, as he brought her hand to his lips.

"Natalia." His breath was warm and ticklish on her knuckles, and she felt an overwhelming urge to giggle bubble up inside her. She could see the corners of his mouth turn up, and his blue eyes shimmered with something between laughter and seriousness. "Your Highness. With your extraordinary grace and your incomparable beauty, you are unlike any woman I have ever known, and it would be my greatest honor if you would consent to be my wife."

There was a clattering sound as Merton dropped the tea tray.


	4. Chapter 4

How Far

Chapter 4

* * *

The audience chamber seemed larger and more imposing than Guy had remembered. Natalia had expressed a preference for meeting in her father's private study, but Guy wasn't at all surprised by the king's choice. He was well aware of the position he'd be assuming if their engagement was approved, and this was nothing compared to what lay ahead.

Besides, he'd been through too much in his life to be intimidated by a big room.

When Natalia had come to collect him from the guest suite, however, he was in the middle of changing his coat for the third time. His blue coat was elegant and subdued but screamed Malkuth. The red one was bold and Kimlasca-friendly but made him look like he was trying too hard. The green one seemed to be a good compromise until he saw their reflection in the mirror.

"No, if you're wearing red, I can't wear green," he sighed. "We look like kids in a harvest pageant. Miss Tomato and Mister Artichoke."

"Wear the blue," Natalia said as he shrugged out of the coat and handed it to Merton. "It brings out your eyes."

"Precisely what I tried to tell you, my lord," Merton added, returning one coat to its hanger and retrieving the other.

"Sorry, but it didn't sound as charming coming from you."

Though it was Merton's job, Natalia helped Guy into the blue coat and ran her hands across his shoulders to smooth the fabric and his nerves. "You see, Merton, we _can _agree on something," she said with a delighted grin.

"I am all aflutter, Your Highness."

"If you two can agree then there's hope for the rest of us." Their banter and the delicacy of Natalia's hands gliding over his back and shoulders eased the knot in his stomach. He'd survived a war, stared down people who wanted to kill him, but the prospect of requesting a woman's hand from her father—who had good reason to hate him, no less—was in a completely different class. "Okay, is this better?"

"Much," she answered, nodding. "You should always wear blue. It's a marvelous color for you."

"Yeah?" Another glance in the mirror proved she was right, but it was the way her reflection smiled at his that convinced him.

Now, in the audience chamber, kneeling next to her in her red dress, they made a striking pair, a visual representation of the international union they sought.

He listened as she relayed her decision to her father, laying out the same logical arguments she had presented to him. While she spoke, Guy concentrated half on her words and half on the nerves that continue to plague him. Both combined to form an odd kind of strength for him, a reminder of how important this was, how much they had to gain from it.

The king said nothing until his daughter had finished. Then, after a long and measured pause, he said, "Leave us, Natalia."

With his head lowered, Guy felt her slowly stand beside him.

"Yes, Father."

She hesitated, and he knew her eyes were on him, but he did not look up. The light breeze of her swishing skirts touched him as she turned to go.

The door closed with a heavy, suffocating echo, and then there was only silence.

And more silence.

He remained completely still and waited. This was a game he had experienced and expected. The longer he was made to hold his position, the less power he had. It was unnecessary, as Guy knew he had no power.

Even so, it was a game that would end in a stalemate. Guy had countless hours, two dozen years of rigorous training in him. His body was not only young, but used to the strains and demands of both practice and combat. Every morning he went through the same exercises Pere had drilled in him since he was four years old. He'd not let himself get soft and doughy and complacent like the other lords.

More than physical strength, mental discipline was the key. Each itch or twinge or cramp could be ignored, so long as he remained focused.

Though she was gone, Natalia was his focus. He was doing this for her, and he would never let her down. He would not appear weak and unworthy before her father.

No matter how long he was forced to wait, he wouldn't break.

When Guy was beginning to think he'd be buried in this pose, the king finally spoke.

"Gailardia Galan Gardios."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Son of Eugenie Cecille."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

The king paused again to give weight to his next words. Guy knew exactly what was coming. "You once entered my country under false pretenses with the intent to murder my kin."

The same three words were on the tip of Guy's tongue, ready to repeat, but he bit them back. It was the truth. He wouldn't deny it, and confirming it aloud would serve no purpose but to trap him as someone arrogant and vengeful.

"You even disrupted peace talks between our nations by holding your blade to my own throat."

A litany of his crimes could be countered with a tally of the crimes against him, but those would be excused in the name of war. A war that was somehow justified by religion and prophesy.

"Now you wish to marry my daughter. What have you to say for yourself?"

His actions of the past few years spoke for him, but he had prepared for the question all the same. "Your Majesty," he began, keeping his voice steady and clear, respectful but undaunted. "I can only offer my most humble apology and my deepest regret for the misguided anger of my youth, and I pray that you have the mercy to forgive me, just as Natalia has forgiven me." Now he raised his head, his eyes as steady and undaunted as his voice. "And just as she has forgiven you."

Save a slight narrowing of the king's cool green eyes, there was no visible response to Guy's words. Whether it was wise to say them, they needed to be said. Guy would not pretend that he had always acted honorably, nor would he be cowed into acting as if he were the only one to exercise such poor judgment. Mistakes were made on all sides. If they couldn't leave their transgressions in the past and move on, this wasn't going to work.

After another measured pause, the king said, "You may rise, Gailardia." Taking this as an order, not a suggestion, Guy stood. "My daughter has an interesting sense of justice." The king almost chuckled, a sound both amused and impressed.

"Her flair for doing what is right is why her people love her so much," Guy replied.

"Yes, quite." The king steepled his index fingers and tapped them against his lips in idle contemplation. "She thinks highly of you, Gailardia."

"I think most highly of her as well."

"And you share her belief that this marriage will lead to improved international relations?"

"Yes, Your Majesty." He may have given Natalia a hard time for proposing in such an unromantic fashion, but he couldn't argue with her political savvy. "While this peace has persisted the past few years, I know there are still rumblings of uncertainty both here and in Malkuth. A stronger tie between our countries will prove that this peace is not simply a piece of paper and will ease fears of another war. With such stability, we believe prosperity can be shared by us all."

"And that is why you would marry Natalia?"

"I would marry her because she asked me, Your Majesty."

The king's eyebrows lifted slightly at this. Yes, the political reasons were compelling, but Guy was doing this for Natalia's sake more than any greater good. She could have presented him with a book of sensible reasons, but the only reason that mattered was that she needed him. "You are aware that should you marry, you will become a member of the Royal family, and as such, a servant of Kimlasca-Lanvaldear. I will not ask you to sever ties with Malkuth, but your first duty will be to this country."

"With all respect, Your Majesty, my first duty will be to Natalia." She meant too much to him for him to take this lightly. He would treat their relationship with the sincerity and sobriety it required. This would not be a cold political partnership. This was a marriage. She would be his wife, and he her husband. "I will serve this country, but Natalia will always be my priority."

The king nodded, seeming satisfied with Guy's conviction. "I told her that I would stand by her decision, and so I shall." He leaned back in his throne, as close to relaxed as he had been throughout their exchange, but Guy knew better than to breathe a sigh of relief just yet. "I have one last question, as a father and not a king."

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

"Are you in love with my daughter?"

It was the one question Guy hadn't prepared an answer for.


	5. Chapter 5

How Far

Chapter 5

* * *

The Royal Council held a special session the next afternoon. This was Guy's first official exposure to what Natalia often called "the grumpy old men". The highest ranking and most influential lords with titles as old as the kingdom had all assembled to approve the first royal marriage in over twenty-five years.

Guy stood beside Natalia, admiring her stature and trying to emulate it. She stood tall, proud, regal, a true princess in deportment and purpose. He needed to appear worthy of her and the position he would take, modest yet deserving, a difficult combination to pull off.

So he went with the red coat this time.

When she glanced at him from the corner of her eye, she gave him a small, reassuring, even grateful smile. He returned it with his own gratitude before focusing on the proceedings again.

The betrothal agreement had been drawn up overnight, but the haste did not preclude great care. Every detail was documented in unequivocal terms, and the wedding date was set for next month to coincide with Natalia's twenty-fifth birthday, as expected.

The terms provided that while Guy would never obtain a title higher than prince or be eligible to rule—which was fine by him, as he did not want that responsibility—any children of the union would succeed the throne from Natalia. Should no children result from their marriage, upon Natalia's death the throne would be inherited by Luke and his future heirs as stated in the original Order of Succession.

At the mention of children, Guy watched Natalia's cheeks flush bright pink as they had that day in his workshop, and he bit back a grin. His teasing would likely be misinterpreted as an eagerness to copulate with the beloved princess, and he wouldn't undermine the solemnity of the occasion with such lascivious thoughts.

Too late. He just imagined her naked again. Her creamy skin soft and supple as the finest silk, her curves graceful and inspiring as a cello…. Damn, what happened to his mental discipline?

He forced himself to stare at the ugliest, oldest, wrinkliest man in the room until the image went away.

It didn't take long.

Next in the agreement was the stipulation for Natalia to obtain the title of Countess Gardios of Malkuth. "Sorry it's a step down," he whispered to her, and the little smile reappeared on her lips.

"I'll make do," she answered.

In addition, and this Guy did not expect, he would receive one of the Cecilles' lesser titles. The Cecilles' main title had been restored and granted to his cousin Jozette, but Guy would receive the rank of Baron Gounesse, a privilege he was meant to inherit from his mother. He'd never even known about it. There was no money or land associated with the title, but it was still rightfully his.

Natalia grinned fully as if she were not surprised by this information. Had this been her doing? If they hadn't been in a stuffy room full of stuffy noblemen, he might have kissed her.

Everything else seemed standard, non-controversial, and in order. The king signed the contract first, then Natalia. Guy took the quill from her and prepared to add his name, noting the space above for the emperor's signature.

Oops. This was going to require some hefty explaining. Not that he believed the emperor would object, but because Guy had left for Baticul with no other excuse than that the princess had requested his assistance with a personal matter. He hadn't wanted to say more until speaking with the king and gaining his approval, and things were progressing more rapidly than he had expected at the time.

Well, Jade would say there was no one better at explaining things than Guy. Other than walking His Imperial Majesty's rappigs, it was Guy's most important job.

As he was signing, his relief at making it through the process so far came to an end.

"I cannot let this farce continue, Your Majesty!" A man a bit older than the king rose from his seat in the center of the chamber, his manner calm but his face red with barely repressed hostility. "You would marry your daughter to a Cecille?"

"My daughter has made her choice, Creemore," the king replied, "and we will honor it as agreed."

Creemore. It was a name Guy had learned only recently, but it filled him with dread as if he'd known it all his life.

"Eugenie Cecille was a traitor!" Creemore spat.

Guy's fists clenched at his sides, desperately missing his sword. He had two choices: speak up and make an even greater enemy of Creemore, not to mention come across to everyone present as someone hotheaded and vengeful, or keep silent in the interest of remaining above old pettiness. Silence also implied weakness, so how was that a choice, really?

But before he could say anything, Natalia beat him to it. "Eugenie Cecille was an honorable woman who stood by the husband her king chose for her."

"And would you do the same, Your Highness?" Creemore's tone remained even and politic, but there was a definite sneer in the way he addressed her. "Stand beside your Malkuth lover and be traitor to your own country?"

To hell with maintaining civility. He could take whatever came his way, but he was supposed to stay quiet and let this asshole attack her, too? "How dare you insult Her Highness wi—"

"Natalia. Gailardia. You are excused." The king's command sliced through Guy's words so quickly he never finished the thought in his head.

He saw the frustration in Natalia's eyes, then she turned away, leaving him to follow her out of the Council chamber and into the corridor.

There must be something comforting he could say, but all that came out was "Wow."

"Indeed." Her eyes closed briefly, exhausted from that bit of vitriol directed at her. If this was the kind of thing she was dealing with, it was no wonder she had come to him. She shouldn't have to face it at all, much less alone. Her father wouldn't always be there to support and protect her. "It's too warm in here. Shall we take a walk through the garden before dinner?"

Just like that she pushed it aside. That was something he needed to relearn, to keep his anger controlled and buried deep. No one would trust him if he proved to still be that kid filled with rage and eager to pull his sword over any slight. If he were to be any help to her at all, he needed to keep his cool. "Yeah. Go on, I'll be with you in a second."

"Yes, all right."

Once she was out of sight, he slammed his fist into the nearest stone wall.

-x-x-x-

Escape wasn't an escape if it was by instruction, but Natalia still felt a liberating sense of relief as they took a quiet evening stroll around the garden. It was easier to breathe here, surrounded by nature's greens and whites and pinks and oranges, with the openness of fresh air preferable to the oppressing stuffiness of the Council chambers.

They walked side by side in silence for several moments before Guy spoke. "If I'd known you were up against Duke Creemore—"

"You'd never have accepted my proposal?"

"I'd have accepted right away. The Creemores have always hated the Cecilles. According to Jozette, they were the first to turn against us. Looks like some things never change."

"The Creemores have short tempers and long memories," she replied, and he nodded.

"Yeah, that's what Jo said. Now I'm even more convinced we're doing the right thing. You can't let someone like that have too much rein. He'd destroy both Kimlasca and Malkuth." The Creemores were warmongers, it was true, and while it wasn't the thing to admit so publicly, they had to be clinging to the promise of prosperity foretold by the Score. There were others who felt the same. It wasn't talked about, but neither was it a secret.

It was another layer to Creemore objecting so strongly to Natalia's desire to marry someone from Malkuth, as an alliance and peace were the last things he wanted. That Guy was also a Cecille was another mark against him in Creemore's book, but that only served to validate her choice more as far as she was concerned.

And the way Guy stood up for her…. She never wanted to appear like a helpless woman incapable of ruling her country without a man's guidance, but she knew she would be stronger with him there.

"I can't believe he can get away with talking to you like that," he said now as if reading her thoughts.

"He won't entirely. The Council will censure him, and he'll offer me a pretty yet thoroughly insincere apology with the excuse that he was only giving voice to an objection others might raise, and somehow distance himself from these nebulous others by claiming it is his duty to ensure such concerns are unwarranted, because of course he would never impugn my royal person or our valued allies."

"That's bullshit."

"You'll get no argument from me." Her heels made purposeful clicking sounds along the stone path, and as she listened, the tread of his boots found the same rhythm. Whether conscious or not, she found comfort in the synchronicity. "Shall we talk about something more pleasant?"

"Absolutely."

With a little hop, less ladylike than most people would expect, Natalia perched on top of the garden wall like she did when she was young. Her legs idly swung back and forth until she remembered the old lectures about scuffing the backs of her slippers. Instead she crossed her legs and looked back at the palace as Guy leaned against the wall next to her. "You know those are my windows, correct?" she asked, pointing and waiting for his affirmative reply. Her finger then moved to the right. "Next to my rooms are the prince's chambers."

"Yeah?"

"They haven't been used since my father was a boy. You may want to look at them before you go and see if any redecorating is in order. I'll be glad to take care of it."

"Sure. Speaking of, the countess's suite at my house hasn't been decorated at all. I mean, there's some basic furniture and stuff, but if you want anything, I don't know, frilly or whatever, have it sent and I'll see that Merton is tortured with sorting it all out."

That sounded doubly fun. "Ooh, a new room to decorate and a way to make Merton miserable? Every time I turn around there's another advantage to marrying you." Poor Merton. She did like him; he was just so particular about everything. "I may like a yellow room this time, perhaps with sunflowers or daisies. I don't have a yellow room."

"You have so many rooms?"

"Well, there are my chambers here, my suite on the _Princess Natalia _is done in mossy greens, and my rooms at the royal retreat are a wonderful lavender with lots of hydrangeas and lilacs."

"Royal retreat?"

He must have forgotten, or still be processing that all of these things would be his soon, too. "Yes, you recall the royal family's private island?" He nodded slightly as if remembering. "It's probably where we'll spend our honeymoon."

At that he grinned. "A honeymoon on a private island. Every time I turn around there's another advantage to marrying you."

She would think that these repeated mentions of what would happen between them after they married would get less embarrassing, but they didn't. Or maybe they weren't embarrassing, and the heat she was feeling was… curiosity. "If you'd prefer, we could sail on the _Princess Natalia _instead."

"Nah, you know I'm still an island boy at heart. Besides, either way I'll get to ride the Prin—"

"Don't you dare finish that!" she said, giggling and blushing in equal measure.

"Hey, you're the one who offered to give me children. I'm just trying to keep up my part."

"In a manner of speaking." The joke was so obvious it popped out on its own.

He folded his arms and gave her an exaggerated frown. "Honestly, Natalia, must you make everything dirty? I'm never anything but a perfect gentleman." Shaking his head, he looked down at his boots in affected dismay, but she saw the smile curving his lips. Her giggles became full laughter, and he joined her at last.

It was a wonderfully cleansing feeling, like everything dark and suffocating was being released into the air to be swept away to whatever awful place such things came from. "Thank you," she said when her laughter subsided. "I needed that."

His smile was warm yet gave her gooseflesh. "At your service, Your Highness."

There was a breeze, carrying the songs of the evening's first nightingales, the males searching for a mate amidst the sweet scent of jasmine. The sun and moon prepared to change places in the sky, creating a blur of color across the horizon. This was always her favorite time of day, and it was lovely to have someone to share it with.

"So, I have something for you," he said, his voice low enough to be part of the mood rather than a spoiler. "I was waiting for the right time, and this looks like it."

From his pocket he took a small velvet box, and he turned it over in his hand like a magician playing with a deck of cards. "Most of my family heirlooms were lost with our house," he continued, "or I'd have something more impressive and ancestral. But this is good, too, I think. Something new for a new tradition. And instead of something old that someone dusty chose long ago, this is something I chose for you."

He opened the box to reveal a beautiful ring. The centerpiece was a stunning sapphire, round and perfect, with a cluster of three flawless diamonds on either side. The band itself was platinum but otherwise simple, and all the more elegant for it. It was luxurious without being ostentatious, sophisticated but unpretentious.

"May I?"

"Yes, of course." Her voice was shaky with surprise and something else, something like anticipation. She held out her hand, and he slid the band onto her third finger. The sapphire winked at her just as his blue eyes would.

"You like it?"

"It's gorgeous." It was her second engagement but her first ring. They'd never got to the ring part last time. Somewhere another ring still sat, never to be hers, waiting for Luke to be free to give it to the one he loved. "Yes, I love it." The tremor in her voice now was one of wistfulness, and when she met his eyes, she felt tears pricking at the back of hers. "I'm sorry," she said, blinking hard, refusing to let them fall and ruin this moment. "I'm just… indulging in a bit of nostalgia."

"Yeah, I understand," he answered gently, and she knew he did.

"I'm glad it's you, Guy," she said, and he smiled at her, a smile more pure and dazzling than the diamonds on her finger. The ring really was the perfect choice. It was so much like him, bright and genuine and full of promise.

"Me too."

The moon had ascended high enough to bathe the earth in a soft, romantic glow. The nightingales' chirps and whistles became more plaintive, the jasmine heady and alluring. She took a deep breath as if to inhale everything—the jasmine, the songs, the moon, and this contentment she'd been missing for so long.

As all of this surrounded them, he stood in front of her, looking at her like she was the center of this tableau, the reason for all of it.

"Would you like to kiss me?" Her words were impulsive, but she felt the night had been orchestrated just for them.

"Would you like me to kiss you?" He was standing so close. If only she would reach out, her hands could grasp the lapels of his coat and pull him to her.

"We are engaged," she answered. It wasn't loneliness or nostalgia for what she'd never have. At this moment, she didn't want anyone else. No one else was in her thoughts, no one else was making her heart pound as he leaned even closer, making her breath catch in excitement.

His lips landed on her cheek, and she let out a sigh of exasperation and longing. "That's not what I—"

Then his mouth was on hers, swallowing the rest of her complaint. With her lips parted in mid-word, he was able to take her upper lip between his, tug at it, savor it like a sweet piece of candy. The serendipity of the arrangement left his lower lip for her to tug and suck and nibble until she'd had her fill.

She'd never had a proper grown-up kiss like this, but it felt so natural to sink into him, opening her mouth to taste more of him. Her hand moved to his face without her even realizing it until she touched him, her fingers lightly tracing the angle of his cheekbone, then almost holding him in place when it seemed like he might pull away.

In all their years of friendship she'd never expected this. She wasn't oblivious or immune to his charms—no woman was—but she hadn't imagined kissing him, or wanting to, until now. It should have been strange and awkward, but instead it was the obvious next step. Not because they were engaged and this was what engaged couples did, but because it was them, and so it was… right.

When his mouth finally left hers, he stayed close, sharing her every breath, trembling beneath her fingers.

"Do you remember," he said, his voice a ragged whisper, "how you used to get your way with me?"

"I'd threaten to touch you." She could barely speak herself. "But that doesn't work anymore."

He pressed his forehead to hers. "I think now you'll have to threaten _not_ to touch me."


	6. Chapter 6

How Far

Chapter 6

* * *

It was raining the next morning, and Guy's plans to work out in the garden were spoiled. Waving a long blade of metal in the air during a lightning storm probably wasn't the best idea.

He was still getting used to having the run of the palace. He was a guest, technically, but he was also betrothed to the princess. In a few weeks, this would be his home. Everything here was at his disposal. It would take some time for him to remember that and feel comfortable taking advantage of all the facilities.

Such as the gymnasium.

Natalia was already there when he arrived. She had tied a scarf over her hair and was wearing a sleeveless top with a short pleated skirt, well-suited for easy, unrestricted movement. A quiver of arrows was slung over her shoulder, and across the room, four targets were set up in a neat row. The centers of the first two targets were packed with arrows, and the third was well on its way to matching them.

Guy kept quiet so he wouldn't distract her. Setting his sword on the ground, he began stretching, his feet planted apart and his eyes on her at all times.

As she moved her aim to the fourth target, she changed her stance. If previously she had been working on accuracy, she used this last chance to focus on pure speed. Each arrow whipped through the air and hit the center of the target so fast he could barely follow it. The cluster of arrows building in the center was almost as densely packed as the other three. She never missed.

And with each shot, her skirt rustled, giving him a quick peek of something white and lacy underneath. He swallowed a groan and pretended any physical reaction was simply due to his exercises. There was bound to be some friction in his trousers as he stretched from side to side.

After the last arrow, she lowered her bow and examined her work, wiping sweat from her forehead with the back of her free arm.

"It's almost boring how good you are," he said.

She jumped a little at his voice before turning around. "Oh?" she replied. "I never tire of being perfect." Exchanging her empty quiver for a full one, she said, "Would you like to see something I've been working on?"

"Sure." He brought his feet back together and stretched his arms one last time over his head. As he did so, he could have sworn her eyes dipped down to the front of his trousers, then quickly scuttled away. Damn, was it that obvious?

She wiped her forehead again, her cheeks pink with exertion, and removed her scarf. "Can you bring those three training dummies over?" He was planning on using them himself, so he agreed. She helped with the last one, arranging them in a line with about a meter in between. "Good," she nodded. She folded her scarf into a long rectangle and tied it over her eyes like a blindfold. "You may wish to step back now."

That was all the warning he needed. He returned to his place behind her, making sure his shoes trod heavy on the lacquered wood floor so she'd know exactly where he was.

Three arrows were nocked and ready. She raised her bow slowly, paused in a moment of concentration, drew, and fired.

With a quick, resounding _thwap_, each arrow found one of the dummies, piercing them all in the exact same spot: right between the legs.

Guy winced. "Ow."

Natalia tugged her blindfold down and let it hang loose around her neck. Grinning at her success, she turned back to him. "Never cross me, Guy."

"Noted." That little demonstration was enough to make his earlier problem wither away. "So, can I have a go?"

"What do you mean?"

He picked up his sword and moved to the other side of the gymnasium, taking a place in front of the dummies. "I mean, try me." He planted his feet in a ready stance and raised his blade.

"I'm not going to shoot at you, Guy."

"Why not?" His sword sliced though the air, and he wanted to make swooshing sounds like he did when he was a kid. "Think I can't deflect you?"

"No, I've seen you. I know you can."

"Then let's do it."

She gave him an exasperated look as she retrieved her arrows and refilled her quiver. "If I impale you…."

"I'll return the favor later."

The exasperation was still there, but he could see her trying not to laugh. "Fine." She raised her bow. "Ready?"

"Go."

Despite her concerns, he knocked the first arrows away easily. She was giving him plenty of time between shots, but he didn't need it.

"Faster," he said, and she complied. He was quick on his feet, invigorated by having someone to train with. Back in the old days, he would have practiced with Luke or Van. Pere had been his instructor since childhood, but he wasn't as young as he used to be, and Guy hesitated to ask him to do much more than the basics. And Merton would never dream of such activity. In his words, a true gentleman did not sweat. It was undignified.

How Merton stayed in shape without sweating was a mystery for the ages. If Guy were to ask, Merton would likely reply that the stress of dealing with his trying young employer and such ridiculous questions was enough to expend any unnecessary calories. Just wait until he had to deal with Natalia on a regular basis. He'd probably waste away to nothingness.

"More." The clang of steel and aluminum echoed from the high ceiling, accompanied by the sound of Guy's shoes shuffling across the floor and the occasional grunt of effort.

The original plan was to work off his frustration. This… wasn't helping much.

Kissing her had kept him up half the night. Turning an abstract attraction to her into something real was both easier and more difficult than he would have imagined. Finding her beautiful wasn't the difficult part, nor was it new. Any man with functioning eyes would be attracted to her beauty, and any man with a functioning brain would be attracted to the rest of her. If she hadn't proposed to him, this would still be true, only it would have remained in the realm of the hypothetical, an intriguing but ultimately inconsequential aspect of their friendship.

After so many years spent terrified of even incidental contact, it was all he could think about now. Kissing her soft, pliant lips, remembering how they'd opened to him. Touching the silk of her hair, sliding her delicate fingers through his as they'd said good night and retired to their separate chambers. He was ready for any excuse to do it again.

Then there was the king's question. Was he in love with her? He'd never considered it. After Luke, Natalia was his best friend. She'd known him longer than Luke had, and in many ways, knew him better than Luke did.

Yes, he cared for her a great deal. He'd do anything for her. He'd give up his own life to protect her.

But love?

That Guy could concentrate on their workout at all was a wonder in itself. The threat of physical injury was the only thing keeping him focused.

He swatted her last arrow to the ground, breathing heavily, sweating like he'd run for hours. He had hoped to feel some sense of relief. Instead he was just exhausted, every muscle aching.

Natalia looked somewhat the same, but even sweating, she had a glow about her. Her exhaustion must have been much more satisfying than his. She let out a long breath, wiped her flushed face with her scarf, and smiled at him. "What do you think?"

"I think I'm wishing I'd let you go easy on me after all," he answered, and she laughed.

"Well, I don't know about you," she continued, kneading her draw shoulder, "but I'm going to have a soak in the whirlpool before lunch." A tilt of her head indicated a door on the right side of the gymnasium. He knew from previous visits that the door led to a spa, sauna, and lap pool, all for the private use of the royal family and their guests.

A soak in the whirlpool sounded like heaven. A soak in the whirlpool with her sounded like irresistible torture. "You know," he said, "you're making it very hard for me to leave tomorrow."

She tossed her hair and glanced back at him over her shoulder. "I have to make sure you come back, don't I?"

-x-x-x-

Refreshed, redressed, and ravenous, Natalia pulled her brush through her hair once more before heading for the dining room. It would just be the two of them for lunch, and they had plenty to discuss before he left tomorrow.

Already Guy was leaving. She found she enjoyed having him around, which was a good thing, she supposed, as they were getting married in ten weeks. That had been the whole point of choosing him, after all. She'd wanted someone she liked.

To her great surprise, it was turning out to be so much more than that.

There had been a moment in the whirlpool this morning, as the hot water and pulsing jets had soothed her aching back and shoulders, when she'd looked at him. He'd leaned his head back, closed his eyes in bliss, and said, "Yeah, you're going to have to throw me out of here." With his hair dripping and his bare, lightly tanned skin flushed and slick, she'd felt a heat spreading inside her that had nothing to do with the water.

She got out quickly, wrapped a big, thick towel around her, and announced that she was starving. Otherwise, she might have been tempted to do something a little too forward and unladylike.

Now she almost regretted not taking advantage of the opportunity.

But she _was _starving.

As she approached the main corridor, the new maid stopped her. "Excuse me, Your Highness," the girl said with an awkward curtsy. "You have some guests."

"It's lunch time, Eliza. Ask them to return with a proper appointment." Oh, how proud Merton would be if he heard that.

"Yes, Your Highness." She bowed her head, apologetic. "But he says he's your cousin, and that it's important."

"Luke?" What on earth could Luke be doing here?

Luke wasn't the only one. When she met him downstairs, Anise and Tear were with him.

"Natalia!" Anise squealed, running up to her for a hug. "Why haven't you been to visit us? We're feeling awfully ignored."

"I'm sorry," Natalia replied, "I've been meaning to. I've just been so busy lately."

"Too busy for Daath?" Anise wagged a finger. "That's not good for relations, Your Highness."

"Oh, believe me, I know," she said, turning now to embrace Tear. Tear's hug was more restrained but no less warm. "It's good to see you."

"You too."

Luke, however, was not in a hugging mood. "What the hell is this?" he asked, and he held up what looked like a letter.

If she answered as such, he would not be amused. "I don't know. May I see it?"

He handed it to her, scowling. "My mother says I have to marry you."

"Oh, my, news does travel slowly, doesn't it." Her eyes passed over her aunt's words. "For goodness sake, Luke, did you even read this?"

"I tried to tell him," Tear said. She knew what Natalia had known for years. Luke was a selective listener.

"Your mother explained the situation exactly," Natalia continued. "The Council wanted to reinstate our betrothal, but my father and I convinced them to accept someone else."

"Like who?"

"Guy!" Anise ran to the entry hall's new arrival with much more enthusiasm than she'd shown Natalia. He didn't even have a chance to say hello before she'd jumped into his arms and locked her legs around his waist in a way that made Natalia… almost jealous. Why was it so easy for Anise to be spontaneously affectionate like that, without having to worry about propriety and decorum? Without having to balance their years of friendship with the transition of whatever was happening between them now? If Anise wanted to touch someone, she just did it. No overthinking necessary. "You're here, too?" Anise said, squeezing harder as he tried valiantly to disentangle himself.

"Looks that way." Once free, Guy took Tear's hand and brought it to his lips like the gentleman he was. "And, Tear, lovely as ever, I see."

She blushed with pleasure behind her veil of long hair. Such flattery still embarrassed her, likely because she never heard much from Luke. For all Luke's good points, he was still hopelessly unromantic and clumsy when it came to relationships. In an odd way, it made Tear his perfect match.

"Boo," Anise pouted, her hands on her hips. "You didn't say I was lovely."

"Because you know it already." He turned to Luke and held up his fist for a quick bump. They were too manly to hug. "Hey, Luke, what's up?"

"Hey, tell Natalia I'm not going to marry her," Luke said.

With the most impressive straight face she had ever seen, Guy said, "Luke's not going to marry you, Natalia."

"Well, that's a pity," she answered, placing her index finger along her chin in faux contemplation. "I suppose then as Luke's best friend, you'll have to step up, Guy."

Guy shrugged, careless as could be. "Sure, whatever."

"No, man, there's got to be something else—" Luke's words were interrupted by a delighted squeal.

As expected, Anise was the first to notice the ring. Her berry-brown eyes had zeroed in on it like an owl with a field mouse. "Oh, my gosh!" She gripped Natalia's hand hard. If she'd had a jeweler's loupe with her, she would have been inspecting the sapphire and diamonds for quality and resale value, Natalia had no doubt. "I don't believe it!"

"Congratulations," Tear added, and Natalia gave her a grateful smile.

"What?" Luke could be most oblivious sometimes.

"They're already engaged."

"Just since yesterday," Natalia explained. She'd planned to tell them at the first opportunity and wanted it clear that she hadn't been keeping this a secret.

"And the emperor still has to sign off on the betrothal contract, but… yeah." Guy's nonchalance was for everyone else's benefit, but the sparkle in his blue eyes was for her.

If only he'd kiss her again.

Anise dropped Natalia's hand and turned back to Guy, her excitement replaced with a pretty frown. "Boo, you were supposed to be saving yourself for me!"

"Sorry, kiddo, but Natalia asked me first." He gave Anise's long ponytail a playful tug, but Natalia noticed his gaze was focused on Luke, who had yet to express an opinion.

Meanwhile it was obvious that Anise's reaction was ping-ponging between annoyance over being called a kid and curiosity to hear all the details. "No way!" Settling on curiosity, her eyes now did the ping-ponging between them. "Natalia's the one who proposed?"

"Let's talk about it over lunch," Natalia said before the conversation went any further here in the entry hall. She'd never get to eat at this rate. "Eliza," she said, addressing the maid, "please let the kitchen know we'll be five instead of two."

"Yes, Your Highness," Eliza answered with a quick curtsy, then scurried off. She shouldn't have been standing around idly while they talked, but she was new, and Natalia was feeling generous enough to excuse her just this once.

"Shall we?" Natalia asked her guests, but like before, she looked to Guy, who was still waiting for Luke to react.

"You ladies go ahead. I need to ask Luke something."

"All right." She needed to talk to Luke about this herself, but perhaps it was better if Guy went first. She didn't blame her aunt for apprising Luke of the situation; in case things had turned out differently, he needed to be aware of the expectations placed on both of them. Even without the Score, those around them would still try to dictate the course of their lives, and they needed to exercise their own choices whenever possible.

Natalia linked her arms with the other two as they walked toward the dining room. "So, Anise," she said, "how are your parents? And Florian?"

"They're boring," Anise replied dismissively. "I want to hear more about this proposal. Was it totally romantic?"

"Royal proposals are rarely romantic. I presented him with a practical and mutually beneficial alliance, and he agreed."

Anise sighed. "Geez, you guys are as boring as my parents."

"By the way," Tear said quietly, "I know Luke won't say it, but I want to… thank you."

Natalia tried to mimic Guy's nonchalant shrug. "Luke's made his choice. I just happen to think he made the right one. That's all." A few years ago she might not have been so magnanimous, but everything had changed since then.

Anise was completely uninterested in this line of conversation. "But he kissed you, right? Tell me he at least kissed you."

Any more serious discussion would have to wait until later. "Yes," Natalia answered.

"And was _that_ totally romantic?"

Her heart beat faster just remembering. "It was very nice."

"Oh, come on," Anise griped, "you can do better than that. What was it like?"

"Anise, that's not any of our business," Tear chided, but Natalia could hear a tiny note of curiosity in her voice.

If she didn't elaborate, Anise would never let it go. And as much as she enjoyed Guy's company, she'd missed proper girl talk. "It was rich and warm and sweet, like… butterscotch." She stopped walking and closed her eyes to better recall the sensations. "You know when you have a butterscotch drop, and you suck it between your lips and roll it around your tongue as it slowly melts, and then the warmth spreads all through your mouth?" She could almost feel it again, the gentle sweetness of his lips on hers. "It was like that."

Her dreamy sigh was joined by two others.

-x-x-x-

Even after the girls had left, Luke didn't say anything about this news. There was clearly something happening upstairs, playing out in a variety of expressions on his face; whatever it was just wasn't making it to his mouth.

"So, is this okay?" Guy asked. One of them had to start.

Luke's expression finally settled on confused. "That's what I was going to ask you. You shouldn't have to do this for me."

"No, that's not it. I didn't know it was you, actually." He tried to remember how Natalia had put it. "Someone unsuitable, she said."

"Huh?"

"Nothing." He tried not to grin. Who would have thought that he'd have to save Natalia from marrying Luke? He knew why she refused, of course. They'd all encouraged Luke to find his own purpose, and she wouldn't hold him back or disrupt his plans.

Still, for all the years she'd dreamed of marrying Luke, it was ironic to see her so determined not to marry him now. It showed a selflessness and maturity Guy admired, even if he was the one to benefit from her decision.

"You're really going to marry her." Luke sounded surprised, concerned, and impressed all at the same time.

"Yeah. It's the best solution for everyone, don't you think?"

"I guess. If you're really okay with it."

Okay with it? He got to marry the most amazing woman he'd ever known. Throw in securing his family's legacy and the ability to actively promote peace between their countries, to be in a position with the power to make the world a better place, and it was a pretty damn good deal. "I am. It's what Natalia wants, too, and I know better than to get in the way of what she wants."

Luke finally laughed. "Seriously. Well, better you than me."

"So I have your blessing?"

"My blessing? Hell, you have my sympathy. You'll need it more."

"Thanks." He clapped Luke on the back like old times. "I know Natalia's going to ask the girls to attend her, which means I'll need a best man. Think Jade will do it?"

For just a split second, Luke looked hurt, then simply annoyed for falling for such an obvious joke. "Jerk," he muttered, and he punched Guy in the shoulder for good measure.

"Oh, sorry, did you want the honor?"

"Hey, I've got to make sure you don't chicken out, or else it's my ass on the line." Treating Natalia like a pain in his neck was second nature for Luke at this point, and Guy took it in the way it was intended. They'd all been friends for too long, and he knew that when it came down to it, Luke cared as much about Natalia as she did about him. "Just… watch out for her, all right?"

But he could go overboard with his protesting sometimes. "Come on, she's not that bad."

"No, I mean watch out for her." Luke's expression was completely serious, his tone low and gruff, and his green eyes narrowed. In that moment, Asch was standing before him once more. "Because if anything happens to her, I swear I will kill you."


	7. Chapter 7

How Far

Chapter 7

* * *

All of them went to the dock to see Guy off the next morning. After a series of good-byes and see-yous, and extricating himself from Anise's clinging limbs, he pulled Natalia aside for a quieter, more private farewell.

"So, I'll be back in eight weeks," he said, and she nodded. "I hate to leave you to organize everything yourself."

This time she shook her head. "I have plenty of staff to assist me. As it is, most of the planning will be based on tradition and thus out of my hands. I'll only be needed for endless dress fittings, which would have nothing to do with you, anyway."

"I don't know," he mused, eyebrows raised. "I'd kinda like to watch that."

She rolled her eyes even as she blushed a most becoming shade of pink. "Go do what you need to do. I'll keep you informed as need be."

"Or not as needed. Write to me just to say hi."

A little smile played at her lips, and he noticed her move just a bit closer. "I will." And closer still. "As you send your things, would you like them unpacked?"

"Why should your staff have all the fun?" he asked. "Merton will pack meticulously, and I'm sure no one will unpack to his satisfaction."

"I'll leave it for him, then."

"Good." They were lingering, it was obvious, discussing things that had already been discussed to avoid this last moment. Her hazel eyes held his, waiting for something. The space between them grew smaller, but he couldn't take that last step with everyone watching, no matter how much he wanted to, how much he'd been thinking about it. "Anything else?"

"Kiss her!" Anise called.

Natalia giggled, the pink still in her cheeks, but the request in her eyes didn't change. Why did everyone have to be watching?

He brought her hand to his mouth and ever so lightly brushed her knuckles with his lips.

"Boo!" Anise jeered.

"Lame!" Luke added, pointing a thumb downward.

"This isn't a pantomime, you guys." Natalia continued giggling, and Anise and Luke continued gawking. Only Tear seemed to have any sense of discretion, focusing her attention on two dockhands stacking crates nearby. With the weariest of sighs, Guy said, "Fine, but turn around."

Of course they didn't listen.

"Turn around!" Natalia commanded. When she was in full princess mode, no one would dare disobey. Even the dockhands stopped what they were doing to comply.

"Wow, you're going to have to teach me how to do that," he told her, eliminating the space between them at last.

"It's all part of the job."

Her lips were softer and sweeter than he'd remembered, which should have been impossible. Her fingers brushed over his cheek just as they'd done before, like it was a natural instinct to keep his face close to hers. His arm wrapped around her waist as he opened his mouth to run his tongue along the seam of her lips, and one of them shivered. When she took his lower lip between her teeth and gently sucked it like a cocktail cherry, he realized he was the one shivering.

Kissing her was almost like being drunk, making him light-headed. Everything was fuzzy around the edges, sounds muted by the blood pounding in his ears, but the one clear thing was how good she made him feel.

Had the shrill ferry whistle not sounded to call for boarding, he might not have stopped, despite their curious audience. "Aren't we supposed to hear bells?" he murmured.

She shook with silent laughter against him before she pulled away, trying to appear composed instead of giddy. She even straightened his lapels like a mother sending her son off to school. "Have a safe trip."

-x-x-x-

When Luke found out the girls wanted to talk about wedding things, he quickly excused himself to go spend time with his parents. Natalia couldn't blame him. He was outnumbered three to one, and the last thing Luke would be interested in was dresses.

Anise, however, couldn't wait to visit the royal seamstress and look at dress designs. She stood proudly on the dais in front of the mirrored wall, having her measurements taken. Everyone might treat her as a child still, and she'd been the latest of late bloomers, but she had the curves to prove she'd finally grown up.

"You were wrong, by the way," Natalia said to Tear as they sipped champagne and laughed at Anise's posing.

"About what?"

"Luke did thank me, in his own Luke way, of course." After last night's dinner, Luke had mumbled something about her letting him off the hook and hoping she'd be happy. Natalia had been so touched that she gave him a loud buss on the cheek, and more touched when he didn't immediately wipe it off like he used to when they were children. "And I should be thanking you. You've been good for him."

Tear looked down modestly, feigning serious interest in one of the sketches. "Maybe. Maybe he's just grown up."

"Haven't we all." Then she made the mistake of looking at Anise again. "Oh, Anise, no."

Anise was admiring herself in the mirror, wearing only her underthings, a black sable stole around her shoulders, and a jauntily askew tiara. "What? This could work." She straightened the tiara and tried again, striking what she was convinced was a sultry pose. "We have to wear tiaras. I want to be a princess, too."

"Hmm, we'll see." Until Natalia had chosen dresses for her two attendants, she couldn't choose accessories. She looked at the sketch Tear had been studying. "That one's lovely. What do you think?"

"I like it." It was modest enough that Tear wouldn't feel conspicuous, but still Natalia was sure it would make Luke's eyes pop right out of his head. "In red?"

"Yes, probably a burgundy shade."

"I have your numbers, miss," the seamstress said to Anise—who was reluctant to give up her time in the spotlight—before turning to Tear. "Now I'll need yours, miss."

"Um, shouldn't Her Highness go next?"

"My measurements haven't changed since last time, surely," Natalia said, but she knew Tear would be embarrassed to have her generous proportions examined so closely. Perhaps she'd be more comfortable if they all did this, a sort of female-bonding ritual. "But just in case, let's have a look, Louise." After some help with her dress, Natalia stood on the platform just as Anise had, with just her underthings and stockings for cover. This was not a new experience for her, as she was often in need of special gowns for various functions, but it was important that this dress be perfect. It would be immortalized in the brushstrokes of oil paint forever, hanging next to her parents' wedding portrait in the gallery.

"If I may show you my idea, Your Highness," Louise began, and Natalia nodded. She always trusted Louise's instincts. Along with being an expert seamstress, Louise came up with the most beautiful designs, and her gowns always flattered Natalia's best features.

Louise returned with a sketch and a bolt of intricate antique lace. "I've been saving this for just such a day," she said. Unwinding a bit of the lace, she tucked it under Natalia's arms, pulled it just above her bust, and wrapped a section around her upper arm. "The bodice would be trimmed with the lace here, extending to the sleeves, while leaving your shoulders bare. The main body of the gown would be a simple white silk with an A-line silhouette, and the hem and train would be trimmed with a beaded, scalloped detail. The lace veil would drape from your tiara, like so." Unwrapping everything, she then held the lace to the back of Natalia's head and let it puddle on the floor to approximate the effect.

"That'd be gorgeous," Anise said, and Tear agreed. "Boo, I want to get married."

"You just want the dress and the attention," Tear replied.

"So, what's wrong with that?" Anise took a big gulp of champagne, indulging in adult activity as the occasion warranted. "You'll be a duchess one day, Natalia will be queen… I'm going to have to marry the emperor to compete with either one of you." Her brown eyes nearly glittered with gold at this thought, and she grinned. "Yeah, that's what I'll do."

"Isn't he rather old for you?" Natalia said. Though she was listening to the conversation, she couldn't stop looking at herself in the mirror, picturing the completed gown and wondering what Guy would think.

"The older he gets, the younger a wife he'll need," Anise said.

"You know, Anise, you can't be both the Fon Master and the empress," Tear reminded her.

"Why not?"

"Should such an unholy union come about, I don't know who I'd feel more sorry for," Natalia said, only half-kidding.

"Save your pity for the rest of us," Tear answered.

-x-x-x-

As expected, the emperor's main issue with the engagement was not being informed of it sooner. After a bit of pouting, he signed the contract with a grand flourish and called for a messenger to return it to Baticul immediately.

"I can't believe our little Gailardia is getting married. How quickly you've grown up."

They hadn't even met until six years ago. "I'm twenty-seven."

"Really. It seems just yesterday you were—"

"Twenty-one?"

"Yes. My, how time flies." Peony let out a dramatic sigh and rested his chin in his hand. "Getting married before me. I shouldn't allow that." As if the emperor didn't have his pick of women. His single status was a gesture of defiance at this point, while the pressure to marry and produce an heir constantly loomed. "If I weren't getting something out of it, I wouldn't. The sacrifices we make for world peace, yes?"

"I appreciate your generosity, Your Majesty." Guy's tone was completely serious, and his meaning straddled the line between sarcastic and sincere so perfectly that no one could take offense.

"You're such a delightful suck-up, Gailardia. I'm going to miss you." The emperor was also an expert at straddling the line. "As are the many lovely ladies of Grand Chokmah. You're leaving quite a trail of broken hearts behind."

More like broken dreams of new money for overextended families. "I'm sure you'll comfort them better than I ever could, Your Majesty."

"Bordering on obsequious now. Well, then, when Jade's back, we'll have to have a little man-to-man talk with you." Peony steepled his fingers, and his blue eyes glinted with something that made Guy very nervous. "Yes, that's exactly what we'll do. I can't send the princess a clumsy bridegroom, can I? It'd be a shame to have that beautiful woman in your bed and not know what to do with her. Not to worry, Gailardia; your big brothers will tell you everything you need to know."

He knew it. He knew he wouldn't escape punishment for running off to Baticul without explanation. "Oh, hell."

"What was that?"

"Swell. That sounds swell."

"Yes, I think so, too. All right, run along, now. My little darlings have missed going walkies with you."

Even engaged to the future queen of Kimlasca-Lanvaldear, Guy was still on rappig duty. Like the line between sarcasm and sincerity, rappig walking was both an honor and a joke. "Oh, hell."

"You said something, Gailardia?"

"And I as well."

"Good, good."

-x-x-x-

With the official announcement made, the kingdom began preparing for the celebration. The last royal wedding had been a generation ago, and everyone from the highest levels to farthest outposts was buzzing with excitement, ready for the parties and pageantry that went with such an occasion.

Natalia had been working nonstop for the past three weeks, in part because she was guilty about the time lost while Guy was here, and in part because she had so much to do. She attended hospital board meetings and council sessions while finding time for dress fittings and menu tastings. At night before collapsing in bed, she'd try to write to Guy and let him know how things were progressing.

It was her father who suggested she take a few days to visit her grandmother in Chesedonia. Now she felt guilty all over again for being too preoccupied to think of that herself.

"I'm getting married, Nanny!" she said the second they saw each other.

"I've heard, child," her grandmother replied, wrapping her in a warm embrace. "It's wonderful news."

Wonderful was the last word she would have used when this whole process began, but now… yes, it was wonderful. "I'm so sorry I wasn't able to visit sooner," Natalia added as they moved to the settee in Astor's impressive sitting room.

"Nonsense, you're a busy young woman." Her grandmother called for tea, then muttered, "Look at me, acting as if I'm the lady of the house." Most people would excuse her for acting as such when her granddaughter the princess was calling, but it was clear she was embarrassed to be overstepping her place. "Now, tell me all about it," she continued in normal tones again. "I know it's someone from Malkuth."

"Yes, Nanny. Do you remember Guy? Count Gardios? He was…." So difficult to explain. Would she remember that he'd been a servant in Luke's household for many years? "He's one of my dearest friends."

"Ah, the pretty blond boy."

Natalia giggled at such a description. "Yes, that's him."

"Even an old woman like me couldn't forget such a charmer. Normally I'd tell you to beware the silver-tongued ones, but he seemed a kind, decent young man."

"He is. We want the same things for our countries. He'll be a good partner in promoting peace and prosperity for us all."

"And he's a good kisser?"

Natalia took a dainty sip from her teacup to distract from her blushing. "Yes, he's very sweet."

Her grandmother gave a short nod of approval. "Good. That means he'll be a good lover."

"Nanny!"

"Don't you think I was young once? I remember sparkling just like you are. Yes, look at you, sparkling just talking about him. He's very special to you, isn't he?"

Sparkling. Perhaps she was. She could feel happiness bubbling inside her. She never would have thought it. But then something in her grandmother's face changed; her tired eyes and creased forehead quickly quelled Natalia's bubbling. "Is something wrong, Nanny?"

"Oh, no, child," her grandmother replied, but there was sadness in her voice. "For a moment, you looked so much like my Sylvia when she said she wanted to marry. She simply glowed, bursting with joy and possibilities."

"Oh." She hadn't considered that her news would bring back painful memories for her grandmother, memories of the mother Natalia never knew. Even her very presence must be painful.

"You have the best of your parents, Natalia," her grandmother continued. "You have your father's courage and strength, and you have your mother's pure, loving heart. Knowing that they live on through you…. I have often regretted what I did, but when I see you, and see how you dedicated you are to your people… I hope you know how very proud I am."

"Thank you, Nanny." She hugged her grandmother tightly, feeling tears stinging at her eyes. There was so much in her life she had lost, but she would never take for granted what she had been given in return. She had her grandmother, her father the king, Luke, Tear, Anise, and especially Guy. How very grateful she was for all of them.

"Nanny," she said after a long moment of reflection and remembrance, "will you tell me about my parents' wedding?"

Her grandmother took her hands, her eyes still wistful and damp but filled with love. "Of course, my child."

-x-x-x-

There were a lot of empty whiskey bottles around. Guy had lost count of how much they'd had to drink, and somehow it still wasn't enough.

Jade and the emperor had taken their task as seriously as he might have expected, telling him things he already knew, and then, as the night grew later and the bottles grew emptier, telling him things he never wanted to know. It was like having a sex talk with the world's most inappropriate uncles.

Not that Guy was allowed to talk.

"Now, this next part is complicated," Jade said, careful not to slosh any whiskey from his glass while he retrieved a pen. "I believe we'll need diagrams."

"Ooh, diagrams, excellent." Peony clapped his hands and poured another glass for himself. "Pay very close attention, Gailardia."

Guy lowered his head to the tabletop with a quiet thud and prayed for unconsciousness.

-x-x-x-

In addition to everything else, Natalia had been spending plenty of time and money shopping. She found wonderful white and yellow linens and tapestries to send to the manor in Grand Chokmah, as well as the right fabrics to bring the prince's chambers back to life after so many unoccupied years.

Guy had mentioned brown, but she found brown so very boring and uninviting. Who'd want to spend time in a room so colorless, much less sleep there?

In the end she chose some brown and blue paisley, matched with complementary brown and blue stripes. The fabrics were warm and luxurious, silks and cottons, masculine but soft and welcoming. She hoped he'd find this an acceptable compromise, because she was sure the colors suited the rooms—and him—perfectly.

And she tried not to imagine how it would feel to slide beneath the silky striped sheets and curl up next to him. There was no use pretending she wasn't decorating for her own needs and tastes as much as his, or that she wouldn't be spending as much time in the room as he would.

Still, the room seemed incomplete, and as Natalia studied her work, she twisted her engagement ring around her finger.

That was it. He'd given her this beautiful ring. She needed to get him a wedding present. She needed to get him something special and personal.

Down in the market stalls, nothing seemed right. Just as she was about to give up, someone bumped into her from behind.

"Your Highness. Good afternoon."

Natalia felt herself nearly twitch with distaste for the young man standing too close to her. "Good day, Alfred," she replied, a greeting and valediction both. She was too well-manned to say "piss off, Alfred," but she certainly thought it.

Alfred Creemore had the appearance of a good-looking man who had been broken down into his component parts and then put back together just a little bit wrong. His eyes were dark and dim, his lips full enough to be sensual if they didn't curl in such an unattractive snarl, and his black hair was too long and unkempt to be fashionable or even rakish. He was of average height, average build, and dressed in expensive clothes that tried too hard to impress.

Also detracting from any possible attractiveness was his childish, spoiled nature. He was much like Luke used to be, only that was horribly unfair to Luke. Luke had a stubborn streak that Alfred lacked because being contrary required too much effort. Luke grew up, while Alfred probably never would.

"So you've chosen to marry someone from Malkuth over your own countryman," he said without further preamble. He was as subtle as a brick, and about as smart.

"The best decision I ever made. Please excuse me."

He remained in front of her, blocking her path. "You know, Your Highness, I had a thought."

"I suppose there's a first time for everything. I really must be going."

"It would behoove you to hear it."

She doubted that. "Very well, Alfred. What is this thought that is so revolutionary that I must hear it this instant?"

If possible, his eyes grew even dimmer. "Oh. I've forgotten it."

She wished he'd forgotten to bother her at all. "I'm sure it just got lonely and wandered off. As should you." There were limits to how polite and patient she could be.

"Your Highness. Good afternoon."

The only thing worse than being cornered by a Creemore was being cornered by two Creemores. Natalia cursed her luck. "Lady Adele, it's always something to see you."

The duchess shared her son's dark eyes but not his dimness. She knew a barb when she heard one, no matter how dulcet Natalia's tone. "And it's always wonderful to see you down here among your people. You seem to truly belong here."

"That's very kind of you," Natalia said, knowing very well it was not intended as such. "I love my people and find inclusion with them to be a great honor."

"Of course you do, Your Highness. May I offer my congratulations on your engagement?" Every word had a sugary insincerity that set Natalia's teeth on edge. Were they fooling anyone?

"Thank you. We're terribly happy." She must remember to thank Guy every day of her life for not laughing in her face when she proposed to him. He had saved her from these awful people.

"Yes, you do have that glow about you. Or is that a different type of glow?" The duchess's eyes dropped to Natalia's midsection, then she smirked as she raised them again.

"I beg your pardon?"

"No, I must beg yours, Your Highness. It was simply a harmless joke." Yes, harmless to imply the princess had engaged in improper conduct before marriage. In the space of a few minutes she had been called common and a trollop. "Oh, and what an adorable ring. Is that a sapphire making up for the small diamonds?"

Natalia would not be provoked into making a scene. "I happen to like sapphires."

"Of course you do," Lady Adele said again. "They are very pretty, if ordinary." Another dig at Natalia's birthright. Every comment complimentary on the surface, but nothing but pure contempt underneath. At least the feeling was mutual.

"I believe it's the thought that counts," Natalia replied. "Isn't that right, Alfred?"

Alfred had stood by silent during the exchange. "Huh?"

"Exactly." At times she almost felt sorry for Alfred. He was stupid because his parents preferred him that way. He was spoiled and lazy because they made him that way. They might have wished he were more ambitious, but his lack of concern for anything made him biddable, moldable, suggestible. All traits that made him the last person Natalia would ever want for a partner, or even a friend.

And while Natalia felt horrible for thinking this way, she couldn't help it. What the Creemores had done to her, to her father, to Guy's family… it was unforgivable, but her hands were tied by politics.

"Forgive me for taking up so much of your time, Your Highness," the duchess said now, taking her son's arm. "I'll let you get back to your shopping. Tax-payer money won't spend itself." Her haughty laugh was ignorantly out of place. This woman would never comprehend how hard Natalia worked for her people. "We look forward to meeting your count at your birthday celebration."

Thank goodness Guy would be by her side. She could draw on his strength to help her tolerate their rudeness. "We'll look forward to it as well," Natalia answered sweetly, then let out a sigh of exhaustion when they finally left.

As it turned out, she owed them her gratitude. Had they not delayed her in front of this shop, she might never have seen the painting.

-x-x-x-

With one week to go, Guy had finished his machine and was putting it through its paces before loading it in a crate for Baticul. He took it outside the city for a test run and was well pleased with his success. There were still a few adjustments to be made, but with any luck, he could get the kinks worked out in the next couple of days.

He couldn't wait to show it to Natalia.

Wheeling it back to the workshop, he had to pass by the gardens. As usual, Pere was tending his flowers and clipping the biggest blossoms for the dining table centerpiece.

"Hey, I've been meaning to ask you," Guy said, leaving his machine near the garden wall for now, "what sort of flowers do you think we should have in the countess's suite? Natalia wants something yellow."

"Yellow." Pere considered this as seriously as any other matter pertaining to the household. "Sunflowers are always nice, but when I think of the princess, I think of daffodils."

"Daffodils, huh?" Their bright, happy yellow begged comparisons to her golden hair and the sunniness of her smile. "Yeah, I can see that. Will they be in bloom when we make it back here?"

"I'll do my best to see that they are."

"Good. I think she'll like that. Thanks." Guy slapped his hands on the back of his work trousers. "Okay, I'm gonna go clean up. See you at dinner."

"Wait, Gailardia. Will you indulge an old man for a minute?"

"Sure." He took a seat on the stone bench next to the pink and white camellias, watching the shadows cast by the late afternoon sun. Their garden wasn't as elaborately designed as that at the palace, but it was one of his favorite spots to relax thanks to Pere's expert care. Everything was always perfectly groomed, lush and tranquil.

"I know you've not needed my guidance for many years now," Pere began, concentrating on his clippers, "but… well, I've known you since you were born, and…." More with the clippers, to the point where Guy didn't know if he should be concerned or amused. "Well, I couldn't be prouder of you if you were my own boy."

"Aw, Pere, don't go getting sappy on me." He tried to make light of it, but he felt the same way. For many years, Pere was the only family he'd had, the closest thing he'd had to a father, and he owed Pere his life.

"Maybe it's too late for this," Pere continued as he exchanged the clippers for one of the flowers in his basket, "but if you were my son, I wouldn't want you going into marriage unprepared." He slowly, carefully, twirled the flower stem between his fingers. "I've never told you about, well, the birds and the bees."

No, this was worse than sappy. Guy leaned his elbows on his knees and put his head in his hands. "Oh, man, not you, too."

"You see, a woman is like a flower…."

By the end of Pere's talk, Guy had learned more about botany than he had about sex.

Thank goodness that was over with. No other self-appointed big brothers or surrogate fathers should be trying to tell him any more about his husbandly duties. All he wanted now was a long shower, a hot meal, and some quiet.

"My lord, if I may have a word?"

So close. "Yes, Merton, what is it?"

"You have received yet another letter from Her Highness."

Natalia had taken his suggestion to write for any reason to heart. He received a letter nearly every third day, and he did his best to answer her right away. It was funny how much he looked forward to hearing from her, and how often he found himself wanting to share even the smallest details of his day with her, to ask her opinion on things, or to amuse her with something he'd read. Before he knew it, he'd have five pages filled and more still to say.

"Thank you. Is that it?"

"No, my lord. If we may speak in private?"

In the library, Guy leaned against the desk and folded his arms. "It's your meeting," he told Merton. "Speak."

"My lord, this is rather… awkward."

"That's never stopped you."

"It's about Her Highness."

"Is she sending too much stuff? This will only be our secondary residence, but it's natural that she'll want her own furnishings."

"Of course, my lord. And one never can have enough toile."

Guy had to grin at that. The countess's suite had been covered in more yellow toile than he'd ever seen.

"No, my lord. It's about… your wedding night."

The grin vanished, and Guy shut his eyes. "Oh, geez, are you kidding me?" He was twenty-seven years old. Why did everyone think he knew nothing on the subject? Just because he hadn't been able to touch a woman until a few years ago without going into a complete panic didn't mean he hadn't been extremely hormonal throughout his teenage years. He'd used the time to become well acquainted with his own body, and he'd had enough dirty dreams to fill every book in this library. Hell, if Natalia knew the dreams he had about her back then, she might not miss the next time she aimed her bow at him.

"Perhaps it is not my place, but as your father is not here to tell you… certain things, I believe it falls to me to compensate for his absence."

Over the past few days, Guy had been mortified, he'd been annoyed, and he'd been downright confused. The only option left was to be entertained by Merton's severe discomfort. That might make one more lecture worth it. "Okay, this I have to hear. Wait one second." After pouring two fingers of something amber into a crystal tumbler, he settled himself into his favorite leather chair. "I'm ready. Go."


	8. Chapter 8

How Far

Chapter 8

* * *

Eight weeks they'd been separated.

With everything going on, she shouldn't have had time to miss him.

Now Natalia practically flew down the stairs, her heart racing as each step brought her closer to seeing him and having him here to stay. It had been so long since she'd waited like this, wanting someone to come home.

It was Merton waiting for her at the bottom.

She stopped, feeling breathless and silly. "Hello, Merton." Her voice had the shakiness of one who was nervous, and she drew up to her full height as she would standing before the Council, composed and impassive. When she was younger, perhaps, her enthusiasm could be excused, but she was a grown woman, and a princess should not appear so graceless in front of a servant. "Is Count Gardios with you?" The shakiness was gone, but the excitement could not be contained.

Merton bowed low before her before presenting her with a letter. "I have been entrusted with delivering this to you personally, Your Highness. I fear his lordship was under the impression that I would find the passing of such communication beneath me, so specific were his instructions."

"And would you?"

"It is an honor to be of service both to Your Highness and to my employer."

Was there a soft marshmallow center inside that rigid and formal exterior? "I must say I am rather honored myself."

The valet bristled at anything resembling affection. "I am merely fulfilling my duties, Your Highness."

"Of that I have no doubt." Swallowing a smile, she took the letter. Merton liked her. He'd never say so, but she knew, and she'd allow him to keep his pride. "Thank you, Merton. Is there anything else?"

"Unless you require my services, Your Highness, I believe I should set myself to unpacking his lordship's belongings."

"Oh, you never did tell me why he's not with you."

"I believe the letter contains the explanation. Other than that, I am not at liberty to say."

Peculiar, but acceptable, she supposed. "Very well. Thank you again."

Once alone, Natalia opened Guy's letter. After scanning his words, she glanced down at her floral-patterned dress and yellow satin slippers. She'd gone to so much trouble to look pretty for his return, and he was asking her to put on "sturdy" clothes, including long trousers, gloves, and boots, then to meet him outside the city gates.

Back in her chambers, her maid Sera helped her off with her dress and put together an outfit that could be considered sturdy. She had trousers which were made for riding, a close-fitting corduroy that should suffice. The letter hadn't specified an appropriate top, so she selected a white muslin blouse with a lacy collar. Adding brown leather gloves and boots, she looked like a stable girl instead of a princess, hardly the picture she'd hoped to present to him after so long.

She took her time leaving the palace and walking through the city. If he was going to make her change her clothes, then she could make him wait for her.

But she noticed her pace picking up the closer she got to the gates.

He was standing just on the other side of the bridge, casual as ever.

"You presume to summon me, Gailardia Galan?" she said, cool as a winter morning. She folded her arms and gave an indignant toss of her hair.

"Thought you might like to go for a ride," he answered smoothly, not buying her indignant act for a second. He was dressed like she was in a white shirt and dark trousers with gloves and boots. A pair of goggles sat on top of his head, and a second pair dangled from his wrist.

"A ride?" Only then did she pay attention to anything other than him and how the sun glinted off his blond hair.

Next to him was a machine she'd never seen before, yet looked oddly familiar. It was approximately two-thirds as tall as he was, with two large wheels, a motor, and a narrow bench that must be meant as a seat. At the apparent front end were handles and a control panel. It reminded her of… a mechanical horse with tires instead of legs.

Then it came to her. "That's what you were working on when I went to see you."

"Yep!" His proud grin made him look like a little boy.

"You finished it."

"Yep!"

"What is it?"

His grin nearly slipped. "This, my dear Natalia, is a personal motorized transport vehicle."

"A personal… a per-moto…."

"Yeah, I haven't come up with a good name for it yet," he said, pulling his goggles down over his eyes. "So, you want a ride?"

A ride. A ride on a machine he'd designed and built himself. "Yes."

"Good, that's the right answer." He extended the second pair of goggles to her. "These are for you."

When his fingers brushed hers, a little jolt went through her. Such a small touch after so much time apart only reinforced how much she'd missed him. He had to have felt it, too, but he turned away to crouch down and inspect one of the vehicle's wheels.

She pulled the goggles on like he had, and the strap pressed her hair flat and tight to the back of her head. So much for Sera's careful styling. "Now what?"

Seemingly satisfied with whatever he'd been looking at, he stood up again. "Now we ride," he answered, his easy grin back in place. He slung one leg over the seat like he was mounting a horse. "Climb up behind me."

Her legs weren't as long as his but she managed to copy his movement, bracing a hand on his shoulder as she did so. There was the jolt again, but he still didn't react. It was almost a humorous reversal of the way he used to be. Almost… because part of her was confused by this nonchalance after their weeks apart. Had she been the only one dwelling on it all this time?

"Okay, here are the rules," he said. "This is all about balance, so whenever you feel me lean, you need to lean with me. But do it gently, or we'll tip over. Otherwise, try to sit still, okay? I haven't done this with a passenger yet, and I'll need to concentrate. And keep your feet planted on the running board."

She set her boots flat against the ledge as instructed and hoped she'd remember everything. It seemed easy enough now when they were sitting in place. "Anything else?"

"Yeah." He reached back for her arms and pulled them around his waist. "Hold onto me so I don't fall off."

The way his hands lingered over hers erased all of her doubts.

"Ready?"

Mindful of keeping their balance, she resisted the urge to lean against his back. "Ready."

And then they were off.

At first they puttered along at a leisurely speed. This section of road saw a good bit of traffic this time of day, as carts and wagons brought goods and visitors into the city. Curious gazes followed them as they passed, and Natalia wondered if she would be recognized. One little boy pointed with excitement, but she was certain he was more interested in the machine than the riders.

She wanted to wave, but she remembered Guy's order to stay still. Instead she just grinned back, immensely proud of her fiancé's skills.

When they reached a crossroads, he headed west, taking the turn slow and wide, leaning into it as he'd said. She found it natural to lean with him, to let his body tell hers how to move.

Ahead of them the road was straight and clear. He turned his head slightly so she could hear him and asked, "Wanna see how fast we can go?"

Her arms tightened around him. "Absolutely I do."

Without further encouragement, he kicked the speed up.

The experience was completely different now. The scenery flew by, the expansive blue sky the only constant. The afternoon breeze stung her cheeks and whipped through the thin fabric of her blouse. When he leaned forward, she did, too, letting his back block most of the wind.

She closed her eyes and concentrated on the sensations all around her. The machine's seat vibrated beneath her bottom and between her legs as the motor worked to its limits, its rumbles loud and ferocious like an untamed beast. His back was strong and solid and warm, and pressed against him, she almost felt they were one with the machine and each other.

Maybe nothing should have excited her more than flying in the Albiore. Shouldn't one of man's greatest dreams and achievements be flight? Soaring above everything like birds, looking down on the world and seeing just how small it was?

But this was exciting in an entirely new way. Instead of being inside looking out at the world, the world was all around them. They streaked across the landscape like a bullet. There was an intoxicating freedom of being unconfined, unencumbered by anything, by duty or responsibility, that feeling that they could just go forever. There was the thrill of speed, of having to hold onto him, of sharing this exhilaration with him as they went even faster, as he took a turn so sharply she thought they might fall and realized the heady rush of adrenaline was worth any possible danger.

They were far from the city now and running out of stable road. He brought them to a stop near a tree, and they sat there, trying to catch their breath. Everything around them was silent and still.

Then he punched the air with his fist and let out a whoop of joy. "Hell yeah!"

He climbed off and pulled her into his arms, picked her up and swung her around until she was dizzy from spinning and laughter and being with him again. "That was amazing!" she said as he set her on solid ground, but his arms remained around her. "I don't care what Ginji's building. You win."

"You're biased."

"And so what if I am?"

They stood and smiled at each other, almost goofy and giddy. Adrenaline continued pumping through her. She felt wound up, restless, like she had energy to spare and nothing to do with it.

"Hi," he finally said, pulling off his goggles. His eyes had never looked so blue.

She removed her goggles, too, giggling and flushing with anticipation. "Hi."

His arms were back around her before his lips even touched hers. Eight weeks she'd been thinking about this, shocking herself with how much she'd wanted to see and touch him again. Her hands crawled up his chest, and her arms looped around his neck where they belonged.

She'd said before that his kisses were sweet, and they were, but this time they were so much more. The sweetness and gentleness, the caressing and sipping were only the beginning. His tongue traced the outline of her lips, and she found herself opening her mouth wide so his tongue could explore inside.

Behind her back she felt him pull off his gloves and heard them fall softly into the dirt below. All of her senses were so finely tuned to him that she was aware of everything, even with her heart pounding, her breaths becoming quick and shallow as his tongue continued seeking out the deepest secrets of her mouth.

His hands came up to tangle in her hair, and she pulled off her own gloves so she could feel the heat of his skin beneath her fingers. Sweat glistened at the back of his neck, and the earthy, masculine scent of him made her want something… something more.

"I missed you," he murmured, and he pressed his forehead to hers. She loved when he did that.

"I missed you, too." Her lips had curved in a smile when he kissed her again.

One of her hands returned to his chest, feeling his heart pound through his sweat-dampened shirt as his mouth slanted back and forth over hers. She let her tongue dance with his to the metronome of his heartbeat, and she heard him groan deep in his throat as his hands shoved even more roughly through her hair.

She shuddered with pleasure, new feelings and desires blooming and spreading through her with the heat and colors of a desert sunset.

Those sweet kisses hadn't made her feel like this.

He dragged his mouth to her ear. "When are we getting married?" he rasped.

"Eleven days." How had an answer come to her through the delicious haze swirling in her and around her?

"Good," he replied, and his mouth covered hers again.

Was it good? Was it soon or not soon enough?

Now his mouth opened hot and wet against her neck, and she clutched him to her. He kept one hand on her back to hold her upright, though she was sure that falling to the ground and pulling him down on top of her might not be the worst thing in the world.

His other hand squeezed her hip, the tips of his fingers rubbing along the ribs of her corduroy trousers, as his tongue made quick strokes against her skin. Oh, she should have been scandalized or swooning or something other than wantonly responding to all of this. The more she learned, the more she wanted, curious to discover what came next.

The hand on her hip began moving slowly upward until it found her breast. His fingers conformed to her curve, and when she felt herself pucker against his palm, she gasped out loud.

Suddenly, he stopped, and his entire posture stiffened.

"Don't," she whispered, "I was just surpri—"

His hand covered her mouth. "Did you hear that?" His voice was low and urgent.

She shook her head. How could he have heard anything? All she could hear were heartbeats, heavy breathing, and….

No, something else was there. She couldn't hear it, but she felt something was wrong.

Guy grabbed her hand and pulled her around the other side of the tree just as the familiar hiss of an arrow pierced the air, the bark splintering on impact. With his hands on her shoulders, he pushed her to the ground, then crouched low in front of her to shield her with his body.

How careless they'd been. They were unarmed, alone in the middle of nowhere, and so caught up in each other they'd been oblivious to anything else.

Who knew they were here? Had they been followed?

And they were trapped. They couldn't run. There was nowhere to run without being exposed. There wouldn't even be time to climb back on Guy's machine and ride off without giving their attacker a clear, easy shot.

All they could do was wait.

For several long, tense moments they waited, hunched together, her fists clenching his shirt and her face buried in his neck. His arms were on either side of her, his hands braced against the wide tree trunk.

They waited, but nothing came. Everything was as quiet as it had been before. There were no voices, no footfalls, no one approaching them, no further arrows. "Maybe it was an accident," Natalia whispered, but she didn't really believe it.

"Stay down," he said. "I'm going to look."

She did as she was told, keeping her back to the tree as Guy stood up again. She watched him peer around the trunk, then take a tentative step to the side so everything was within his view. Another step, and then he was out of her sight until he had circled the tree and come back around to her.

"Okay." He extended a hand to her and helped her to her feet.

"Do you think it was just an accident?" she asked again. "Some hunter's stray shot?"

The stony look on his face didn't give her much hope. "I don't think so. Come here."

His hand was still holding hers as he showed her the arrow lodged in the tree. If it wasn't an accident, then someone missed on purpose. However, that made less sense than her careless hunter theory. Why would someone follow them all the way out here only to let them go?

Then she noticed the slip of parchment wrapped around the arrow's shaft.

As Guy unwrapped it, Natalia felt her stomach knot with dread.

The parchment's message was a single word, bold and black and foreboding.

_Traitor_.


	9. Chapter 9

How Far

Chapter 9

* * *

When they returned to the palace, more shaken and sober than when they'd left, Natalia requested a private audience with her father.

Okay, "requested" was not the right word. Demanded was more like it. She was insistent while not reverting to rudeness, maintaining her poise without sacrificing her authority. Under normal circumstances Guy would have taken time to admire that and take notes for when it was his turn.

These weren't normal circumstances.

They waited in the king's chambers. Natalia hadn't said anything since they entered the room. Worry and fear pervaded every aspect of her posture. She'd hid that from everyone else with her haughty bravado, but she couldn't hide it from him.

"Nat," he said gently. Her head was bowed over her restlessly wringing hands, and she didn't answer.

When he placed a hand over hers, he felt her slight trembling. She looked up at him then, her hazel eyes clouded. That was all he needed to see.

As his arms closed around her, she leaned against him. The trembling became shaking. His hands rubbed up and down her back, and he murmured what he hoped were reassuring sounds against her hair.

Whoever had tried to scare them had messed with the wrong pair. Guy wouldn't make the mistake of going out without his sword again. He was still angry with himself for being so careless in the first place. They'd been alone, unarmed, and distracted. If anything had happened to Natalia… it would have been his fault, and he'd never have forgiven himself.

And Luke would kill him.

The king cleared his throat loudly. If he was expecting that he'd interrupted a romantic interlude, the look on his daughter's face quickly disabused him of that notion. "What's happened?" he asked, sharpness in his tone. "Gailardia?"

Guy handed the slip of parchment to the king. "Someone doesn't like us very much." He mentioned the arrow and that they hadn't seen who shot it. Natalia remained silent beside him.

"Where was this?" the king asked. As he took his chair at the head of the table, he gestured for them to be seated. "Here in the city?"

Guy chose to sit next to Natalia rather than across from her, partly to offer her comfort, and partly to reinforce that they were a team now. Opposite sides of the table would feel like he still considered himself an outsider, separate from her. Whether that was overthinking on his part, it was how he saw it. "It was… a little outside the city. More toward the marsh, actually."

"What were the two of you doing way out there?"

"I wanted to give Natalia a ride on my new machine," he answered, hoping that didn't sound like a really bad euphemism. "But, with respect, Your Majesty, I think the issue here—"

"Duke Creemore." Natalia finally spoke. "He has to be behind this. He hates me, he hates the Cecilles, and he made it very clear that he does not support this marriage. He doesn't want this peace. He wants me to marry his spoiled idiot son, and I will not be cowed into doing so." The words all tumbled out in a rush of anger and determination. Guy was relieved to see fire back in her eyes and the fear gone from her posture. His Natalia was _pissed_.

"That's a serious accusation to make, Natalia," her father replied.

"With all respect, sir," Guy said again, knowing he was earning the obsequious label the emperor had given him, "I have to agree with Natalia. While it is possible the duke is not responsible, I do think he's the most likely to be behind this."

The king was silent as he considered their suspicions. There was no evidence, only gut feeling, but that often counted for a lot in Guy's experience. The king, meanwhile, had a history of giving people the benefit of the doubt far beyond the point they deserved it. "Perhaps we should postpone the wedding until a thorough investigation has been completed."

"No." Natalia was adamant. "I will not show weakness and retreat like a scared little girl. This marriage is still the best course for our kingdom. I will not let anyone dissuade me of that."

"Postponing would be admitting that our convictions are not strong enough to succeed," Guy added. "We have to move forward, or we'll lose the whole point of what we're trying to accomplish."

Their arguments were entirely valid, and the king nodded. "And I suppose it would be an incredible inconvenience to change everything at this late date," he mused. "All right, we'll go forward for now."

"Thank you, Father."

"However, should there be further incidents, I reserve the right to put your safety ahead of all other matters."

"Yes, Father."

"To that end, the two of you are not to leave the palace without proper escort. And no," the king said when his daughter opened her mouth to object, "you cannot serve as escort for each other. I may have allowed you to gallivant around the world before, but this time I must insist. Is that clear, Natalia?"

"Yes, Father."

"It's my fault, sir. I had no idea we were being followed. I should have been more vigilant."

"Yes, Gailardia, you should have. Let this be a lesson to you as well. If you are to be the prince of this country, you cannot act with the freedom you may be used to. The two of you are the future of this kingdom and this peace, and I will not have you putting yourselves in unnecessary danger in order to prove something."

Guy didn't like it, but the king was right. He was used to going where he pleased, seeking his own answers, and defending himself against any trouble. Such luxuries had to be sacrificed for something more important now. He had only thought about what he would gain by this marriage, not about what he would lose.

He looked at Natalia. She sat tall and proud beside him, the weight of duty and responsibility on her delicate shoulders. She had always lived like this. He could, too, for her sake, to share whatever burdens she bore.

"While we investigate this threat, are there any other avenues we should explore? Gailardia?"

Oops, the king was saying something to him, but he was busy staring at Natalia. He backtracked quickly in his mind, hoping part of him had been listening. "Jo—I mean, the general will be arriving from Kaitzur in a couple of days," he said, "and I can ask her if she knows of anyone else who's not happy seeing the Cecilles back in favor."

"No." Natalia was shaking her head. "The message was meant for me. I know it."

"We must be thorough, Natalia," her father replied. "And we must not discount the possibility that it was someone from Malkuth."

That seemed farfetched. Guy had been in Grand Chokmah for several weeks. Anyone looking for him would have had plenty of opportunities. Why would someone wait until he was back in Baticul, then follow him and Natalia out to the middle of nowhere, if he was the sole target? Even in the interest of throwing them off the trail, it seemed overly complicated. "I guess… it's possible," he admitted, but his tone remained skeptical. "I'm not the most popular member of the House of Lords."

Natalia gasped with mock surprise, and he coughed to cover an ill-timed laugh. The king wouldn't be amused. "Explain, Gailardia."

How he hated those words. "Well, I've been called a Kimlasca sympathizer. Publicly the peace is supported, but, as you know, private feelings aren't so easily changed. Anyone like me who tries to argue for a stronger alliance gets accused of selling out the empire." Life and politics were not drawn in black and white, and he refused to see things in such simplistic us-and-them terms. Because of this, no matter his experiences, some of the older lords had never taken him seriously. "So my engagement to Kimlasca's princess received… a mixed response, to say the least. Add in that the emperor favors me, and, yeah, it's possible someone out there hates me enough to threaten me." Damn, that sounded arrogant, in a "I'm so awesome of course I have enemies" way.

Fortunately the king didn't seem to take it as arrogance. "That's somewhat vague, Gailardia. Can you give me any specific names?"

"With respect, I can't do that. If I point fingers at someone and I'm wrong, then I've definitely made an enemy. But if one were to gain access to some of the private clubs, some reliable gossip could be overheard."

"Hmm."

"I still think we'd just be wasting resources by investigating Grand Chokmah's nobles," Natalia said. "No offense, Guy, because I don't doubt you know what you're talking about, but I'm sure it's the Creemores. I risk nothing by naming names because they already hate us."

"I will take this all under advisement," the king replied. "In the meantime, this conversation does not leave this room. And remember what I said, Natalia. The two of you are to exercise the utmost caution until this has been resolved."

She was unhappy with this, but nodded her understanding.

"And Gailardia?"

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

"I'd also like a demonstration of this machine of yours."

"Of course, Your Majesty."

With that, the discussion was closed.

In the hall, Natalia let out a sigh of frustration. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to contradict you before. I'm just…."

"Pissed?" he supplied.

"I'm a princess, Guy. I don't get 'pissed'," she answered, arms crossed. "I get _royally_ pissed."

"That's my girl."

That earned him a small smile. "Are you hungry?" she asked. "I can have the kitchens prepare us a snack before dinner."

"Nah, I think I'd just like to take a shower and maybe lay down for a while."

"Yes, me too." He tried not to picture it but failed. "I'll show you to your rooms, then." Nothing suggestive in her tone, but his mind warped everything into a proposition anyway. If everyone hadn't insisted on explaining in minute detail how he was supposed to please his bride, he might not be obsessing about it like a horny seventeen-year-old.

Eleven days, he reminded himself.

Instead of leading him to the guest chambers where he usually stayed, she took him to the prince's suite. "You know," he said, standing outside the door, "I don't feel like I have the right to these rooms yet."

"All of your things are in here."

"I know, but until it's official, I really should stay downstairs." He would take advantage of no privilege until he was legally allowed to do so. No matter how inviting she—the room looked.

"If that's what you want." She looked disappointed. "Would you at least like to see what I've done? I've put a lot of work into getting everything ready for you, but there's still time to make changes if my choices don't suit you."

"I'm sure it's fine, but, yeah, I have to say I'm curious." Certainly a look at the rooms wasn't overstepping his place.

Despite the short time since their arrival, Merton had already unpacked several boxes. There were familiar things scattered around the space, Guy's favorite books and some mementos collected in his travels, odds and ends that should have made this feel like home. The walls had been painted a cozy brown, dark enough to be warm but light enough not to be claustrophobic.

"You said brown," she said as if reading his thoughts.

"Yeah, you did good." The draperies and other fabrics complemented the wall color by introducing other shades of brown, and a nice ribbon of contrasting blue wound its way throughout the room, appearing as stripes, paisleys, and florals.

"And the bedding is all new," she added. "The pillows and mattress and everything." She was carefully avoiding his eyes lest he think she was too concerned with the bed's comfort. "No reason to sleep on something old and lumpy just because it may have historical significance."

"Should be fine." Eleven days. He could last eleven more days, especially if he ignored the door connecting his bedchamber to hers, which only reinforced his decision to sleep elsewhere. "It all looks really great. Thanks for—" That's when he noticed the painting above the fireplace. "Where did you get that?"

She came to stand beside him, her hands clasped in a most ladylike fashion. "A woman never reveals her secrets," she teased, then she was serious once more. "It's supposed to be Hod. Is it?"

"Yeah, but…." Until now the scene had only existed in his memories. A long stretch of beach, sand sparkling with flecks of gold and silver in the afternoon sun. The water was a deep blue, mysterious and alluring, sliding into the shore with foamy white swells. "I know where this is. Was. Where this was." Memories flooded back as clear as if he'd been there yesterday. He could taste the salt on his tongue, feel the gritty sand between his toes and the trails of cool water running down his back, and hear childish laughter ringing in the air. "We used to play there all the time, me and my sister and Van. The waves would get real high, and Mary would worry about me swimming out there, but I took to the water like a fish. I'd cry when she dragged me out to go home."

Natalia was looking at him, a soft smile on her face, but he was still transfixed.

"You see that cave in the base of the cliff? Van and I were sure that was a secret pirate cove and that it held lots of buried treasure."

"Did you find any?"

"Only if your idea of treasure is rocks and driftwood," he answered. He even remembered the eerie pitch of the wind whistling through the cavern. Van told him it was the spirits of dead sailors. "But one time we found an old boot, and that was our proof that pirates had been there."

Her hand slid through his. "It sounds like a wonderful place."

"It was. I wish I could take you there."

"I think you just did."

When he turned to her, there was something shining in her eyes that he wasn't ready to put a name to yet. All he could do was squeeze her hand and bring it up to his lips. "You're amazing. Do you know that?"

"Yes, but I never tire of hearing it."

This time it was Merton clearing his throat, and what he interrupted was much more than a comforting embrace. "Your Highness. My lord." Stuffy as ever, lips pursed in grave distaste. "I now realize how remiss I have been in not serving as an adequate chaperone. It is unseemly for two young people as yet unmarried to be left alone and unsupervised."

"Please don't worry, Merton," Natalia answered sweetly. "Your master's virtue is in no danger."

"Damn," Guy muttered, and she hiccupped with inappropriate laughter. "Eleven days?"

She nodded, still giggling despite Merton's disapproving frown. It was so good to hear her laugh. "Eleven days."

-x-x-x-

The king's lips were also pursed in a thoughtful frown as he instructed his intelligence minister to investigate the threat against his daughter and her fiancé.

"There is… one more name I'd like you to add to this list," he said. "And I will require your utmost discretion."

The minister showed not a hint of surprise when given the name. "As you wish, Your Majesty."

"The wedding is in eleven days. Time is of the essence."

This should have occurred to him weeks ago. Instead he'd chosen to trust his daughter's instincts.

He hoped it wasn't too late.


	10. Chapter 10

How Far

Chapter 10

* * *

The morning of her birthday, Natalia arrived in the dining room to find two beautifully wrapped presents waiting at her place. On the sideboard were stacks of cards and greetings from those who could not attend her party later, as well as the regular collection of drawings and stories from the children of the city. The drawings were always her favorite gifts. She felt so honored that the children looked up to her, and she strove to be the best role model she could for them.

Guy was already in the dining room, and he stood when he saw her. "Good morning, Your Highness," he said with a most proper bow, "and happy birthday."

"Thank you." He came around the table to pull her chair for her, and after she sat, he lowered his head and brushed his nose against her hair. It tickled, but in a way that made something in her flutter. His lips lightly touched the curve of her ear before he stood again.

Moments alone were few and brief. She hadn't had a proper kiss in three days, and she was beginning to miss it, even more than she had during their weeks apart. There was a longing building up inside her, and the feel of his lips on her skin made her ache for more.

"Open your presents," he said, still standing beside her rather than retaking his seat.

"Which one is yours?"

"Both. Do this one first."

Inside the first, smaller box was a book of ghost stories. "Ooh, marvelous," she said appreciatively. "Have you read these?"

"No, but they're supposed to be true," he answered.

"That's even better. Thank you." An image appeared in her mind, the two of them sitting in front of the fireplace as he read to her. She would jump and shudder and gasp at all the appropriate parts, and he would laugh at her and hold her closer. And then….

She banished any further thoughts for now and turned her attention to the second gift.

The larger box held something much more interesting. "Oh, my!" she said, not knowing what else to say. An intricately twisted handle protruded from a leather sheath, and when removed, revealed a narrow blade.

"I just thought that, in light of everything, it might be good to have a little extra protection," he explained. "I've got one, too." He reached down and pulled his own stiletto from his boot. "See, a matching set."

In a strange way, she found it to be a romantic gesture. He was worried about her safety. It wouldn't matter how skilled an archer she was if she didn't have her bow with her. Should she need to defend herself, a concealed dagger would be quite handy indeed. "You're right," she said. "I should be prepared."

"After breakfast, we'll go to the gym, and I'll show you how to use it."

"Don't I just…?" She made a series of stabbing motions, learning the weight of the knife in her hand.

He chuckled at her direct approach. "Yeah, that's one way to do it." His humor deflated the sense of danger she'd felt lately, though since the single arrow, nothing else had happened. Neither were they any closer to discovering the source of the threat. It would be too easy to pretend everything was all right, but if they lowered their guard and grew complacent, they'd be wide open for their attacker's next move. "Although you're lacking a certain finesse."

"Well, yes, finesse is important, isn't it?"

"And don't forget this." He leaned across her, his arm brushing hers, and removed the sheath from the box. "So you can wear it under your dress, like so." As demonstration, he wrapped the leather sheath around his leg and held it in place.

She stood and prepared to follow his example, raising her skirt to her knees.

"You can just do it later," he said quickly, and she dropped her skirt.

"That might be best." Sometimes it was too tempting to tease him, but she should know better than to be showing him her knees at breakfast when anyone could walk in. "Thank you so much for thinking of me."

"Always, Your Highness."

While he was standing so close to her, it would be a shame not to take advantage of this rare moment of privacy. Her lips met his in a soft, fleeting touch, still not the proper kiss she'd been needing, but enough to get her through breakfast.

They returned to their seats just as one of the kitchen maids appeared to pour the tea. "Thank you, Rosalie," Guy said, flashing his easy smile, and the girl blushed and curtsied before him.

"You are such a flirt," Natalia said once Rosalie had gone.

"What?" He blinked, innocent as a newborn. "All I said was thank you."

It wasn't what he said but how he said it. He was incredibly gracious with the servants, perhaps because of the time he'd spent serving in her uncle's house. But with the women, there was that added layer of charm and chivalry. Her maids had all developed mad crushes on him.

Not that she could blame them.

-x-x-x-

That evening was a perfect night for a ball. The weather was clear and temperate, the sky scattered with stars like diamonds on velvet. The doors to the ballroom were thrown wide to let the gentle breeze circulate and soothe the many guests who had come to celebrate the princess's birthday and meet the young man who would soon be her prince.

When the party was initially planned, Natalia had wanted a masquerade ball. After the threat against her and Guy, however, security had been increased, and the king wanted to cancel the costume aspect altogether. Natalia managed to sweet talk her father into a compromise where costumes would be allowed, but not masks. As it was, no one should be entering the palace without an invitation, and all guests would thus be known and accounted for.

That did not mean, however, that their attacker would not be present.

Still, Natalia refused to dwell on that unpleasant topic and let it ruin her enjoyment in playing dress up. Louise had designed a wonderful mermaid-inspired gown for her, with a shimmery green skirt that flared below the knee to mimic a tail fin. The bodice was just a shade darker than her skin and adorned with scallop-shaped embellishments in the expected places. A string of pearls looped around her neck, and a matching bracelet adorned her left wrist. To finish the look, two glittering starfish barrettes held her hair away from her face.

She knew she'd chosen well when Guy could not stop looking at her. He, meanwhile, was indulging his childhood pirate obsession, wearing a ruffled open-necked shirt and dark breeches with his boots. A red sash was tied around his waist, and an eyepatch was pushed up on his forehead. As no pirate costume would be complete without a sword, he'd brought along a toy cutlass. This pretend weapon was inspected and allowed. No one but Natalia knew about the very real dagger in his boot.

Most of her guests had gotten into the spirit of the evening as well. There were characters from fairy tales and folk legends, animals real and mythical, and even various flowers and vegetables. Some costumes were simple additions to existing formal wear, and some were impressive, elaborate creations. The ballroom had turned into a fantastic wonderland, and it was just what Natalia had wanted.

"Many happy returns, Your Highness."

"Why, thank you," she answered, returning Jade's slightly sarcastic bow with a somewhat sarcastic curtsy of her own. "You look rather dashing this evening." And it was true. Eschewing a traditional costume, he was dressed in an elegant black suit, including a crisp white cravat and ruby pin. Even his hair had been pulled back in a tidy queue. "Have you come disguised as a proper gentleman?"

"Ha ha, I don't think anyone would believe that," he replied with a deliberate adjusting of his spectacles. "Instead, let us say that I am the ghost of my former self, doomed to wander this world for eternity." He waggled his fingers at them for good measure. "Boo."

"Hmm," Guy mused, a crooked finger to his chin. "I would have thought you were your own replica."

"Oh, yes, that would have been much more clever," Natalia added.

"Not to mention scarier."

"I know I'd never sleep at night."

The colonel sighed. "You children have no respect for your elders."

"Thanks, we try," Guy said, and Natalia giggled.

"By the by, Natalia, as birthday and wedding gift both, I have endeavored to teach our young Gailardia everything I know. However, should he prove to be an abject failure, feel free to blame the emperor."

She looked to Guy for some clarification on this matter, but he had shut his eyes and was shaking his head. "Well, thank you for that, I suppose," she replied.

With another adjustment of his glasses, Jade bid them a farewell for now and left in search of libations stronger than the champagne cocktails being served.

"You know, I'm convinced that this—" Guy mimed the glasses maneuver. "—is his way of flipping us off."

She'd often wondered that herself. "What sort of knowledge was he talking about?"

Guy went completely pale. "I want you to promise me that you will never, ever ask what they tried to tell me."

Whatever it was had clearly left him scarred. "Yes, I promise."

He managed to pull himself back together as Count Doucet appeared to bestow his best wishes.

Between the preparations and other obligations of this wedding week, Natalia had been drilling Guy with the names and titles of the many people he'd be meeting. She'd worried that she was overwhelming him with trivial bits of information, and reassured him that he needn't be too concerned if he blanked on someone's position in the kingdom. Yet his memory proved to be a steel trap from which the slightest detail could not escape. With each introduction, he impressed the lords and ladies with his wealth of knowledge on almost any subject, and his ability to reflect the focus of the conversation back onto them was a brilliant way to gain their instant approval.

She was incredibly proud to have him by her side.

"How am I doing?" he asked when they had a moment to breathe.

"Like you were born to it," she answered. He smiled at her as she slid her arm through his, then she clutched it tightly as she realized who was approaching them next.

"Happy birthday, Your Highness," Lady Adele said. Her tone and expression were so polite that they lacked any sincerity. Rather than come in costume, she was dressed all in black as if she were in mourning.

Alfred accompanied his mother, saying nothing, shuffling his feet with obvious disinterest. He had attempted to dress for the evening as a coliseum gladiator, but he looked about as imposing as a lost puppy. Unlike Guy, he was not equipped with a plastic weapon, but Natalia didn't know if he'd forgotten it or if the guards had taken it from him upon entering the palace.

"Thank you. It's so good of you to join us this evening." Natalia's own words were equally stiff and formal. "Lady Adele, Alfred, I'd like to introduce my fiancé, Count Gardios. Guy, darling, this is the Duchess Adele Creemore and her son, Alfred."

Guy's blue eyes widened slightly at the casual endearment. She'd meant it as an unequivocal stance against the Creemores' ambitions, but she knew she'd only been waiting for an excuse to say it.

He greeted each of them in turn. "But surely one so youthful must be Alfred's sister, your grace."

Natalia watched carefully for the duchess's reaction. Guy's charm could melt glaciers, but Lady Adele's ice was in no danger of thawing. "Such an old line," the duchess clucked.

"I prefer to think of it as a classic," he answered, smile still in place. Natalia had to admire that. She was practically in the dagger-eye stage herself.

"You look familiar, Count Gardios," Lady Adele continued. "Have we met before?"

"I don't believe so," he answered. "Perhaps you knew my mother, Eugenie Cecille." Even with his voice smooth as honey, Natalia heard the bitter note in it. He could play the political game just as she was forced to, but that didn't mean he had to like it. Her arm was still in his, and she held him just a little closer. "Or maybe my cousin, the general."

The duchess didn't so much as blink. Instead, she seemed to enjoy Guy's veiled bitterness. "Oh, yes, I remember now," she said, her eyes dark and hard. "You were Susanne's house boy, weren't you? Such a young and scrawny thing then."

"Yes, that was me. It was an honor to serve such a distinguished family." His body was tense, and Natalia held his arm even closer to her breast to remind him that she was here.

"Well, well, from servant's quarters to the palace. You're the perfect match for our special princess, aren't you?"

Natalia had almost bitten her tongue off at this point, but Guy remained calm. "The titles and palace would mean nothing without Natalia by my side. I would gladly live in a tent on the beach as long as we're together." He turned to her with the most adoring smile she had ever seen.

"That's so sweet of you, darling," she answered with a girlish giggle, and she returned his smile. "Isn't he the sweetest thing?" she said to the duchess.

"Hmm, indeed." Lady Adele refused to bristle, but Natalia took it as a point scored all the same. When was the last time the duke had flattered or expressed affection for his wife? Had he ever?

Alfred had grown quite bored of this entire exchange. He'd had nothing of his own to add and had stood by, rolling his eyes and yawning. "I'm supposed to ask you to dance, Your Highness." He sounded as if it were a choice between dancing and mucking out the stables.

The duchess tried to laugh at her son's clumsy parroting of whatever he'd been ordered to do. "Oh, Alfred, you won't impress Her Highness with such a lukewarm invitation." The laughter masked anger that would likely come out later. For two people who desperately wanted to expand their influence in this kingdom, they had produced a son who could barely keep his end of the bargain.

"Thank you, Alfred, I would like a dance," Natalia lied. The sooner she got this over with, the better.

"And would you honor me with a dance as well, your grace?" Guy asked.

There was that forced laughter again. "Oh, dancing is for the young. I'll excuse myself and search for company more befitting a woman my age."

Natalia nearly gasped. The woman had just snubbed the future prince. All other things aside, that simply was not done. But rather than insulted, Guy looked relieved.

The duchess did then excuse herself, and when Natalia turned to Alfred for her obligated dance, she found that he'd wandered off as well. Without his mother present to ensure that he followed through, he apparently felt no need. "Oh, my. Have we _both_ been snubbed?"

"I sure hope so," Guy answered. "Dance with me?"

Now there was an invitation. "Absolutely."

It wasn't the first time they'd danced together. Over the past few years, they'd attended some of the same balls and galas, when she'd make an official visit Grand Chokmah or when he'd come here. And because of his years of avoiding physical contact with women, Natalia had been the one to teach Guy the common steps and figures in preparation for such events.

This time he held her a little closer than those dances before, his arm almost possessive around her waist. Her hand was a little firmer on his shoulder, the space between them a little smaller than what was considered proper. This time she was acutely aware of the way her body aligned with his, the way they fit and moved together, the way she followed his lead.

This train of thought was in danger of leading somewhere inappropriate, so she focused her attention on their guests instead.

"Jozette looks beautiful, doesn't she?"

The general, usually so severe and authoritative in uniform, was dressed as a dance hall girl, a picture of femininity. Layer upon layer of colorful ruffles made up her skirt, the corset-like bodice accentuated her graceful figure, and her blonde hair had been curled in a soft, tousled style. The choker around her neck was adorned with a blood red rose. Rouge was splashed across her cheeks and lips, enhancing rather than hiding the natural glow underneath.

"We Cecilles are nothing if not beautiful," Guy answered, and Natalia rolled her eyes at him.

"So, who is he?"

"Who is what?"

"Whomever she's dressed up for," Natalia replied. Men were so obtuse sometimes. "I haven't seen her smile like that in a long time."

"Hmm." Guy considered his cousin more carefully. "Yeah, she does look happy."

"Happy? She's positively sparkling. That's the smile of a woman in love. Oh, I'm so thrilled for her. No one deserves happiness more than she does." While they weren't close, Natalia felt a certain kinship with Jozette, having both lost the ones they had dreamed of marrying. Perhaps that was why she felt so nosy now, or because they were soon to be in-laws, or because it was just in her nature to be curious about everyone else's business.

"Maybe, but look," he said. "Don't pester her about it. If she wants us to know, she'll tell us, okay?"

"But if you find anything out—"

"You'll be the first to know, I promise."

"That's all I ask."

As the song ended, they reluctantly separated for new partners, moving through the room to mingle and chat and dance with as many of their guests as they could, before meeting up again to rest. He was waiting for her with a glass of champagne, and she tried not to drink it too fast lest the bubbles go straight to her head.

Luke and Tear were also with him. She'd barely gotten to spend any time with them this evening. They'd come dressed as a matched pair, which she was sure was Tear's idea. Luke wore a magician's cape and top hat, a bright red carnation pinned to his lapel and colorful scarves peeking out of his sleeves, while Tear was his bunny-girl assistant, with floppy pink ears and a fluffy cotton-puff tail on the back of her rose-colored gown.

"Will someone finally tell me who Anise is supposed to be?" Luke asked, gesturing to the girl across the room.

Anise's gown was a deep blue velvet over a hoop skirt that made her look as wide as she was tall. Her dark hair was braided and coiled at the base of her neck, wrapped with a string of pearls in an old-fashioned but regal style. She fanned herself idly, not from heat but to draw attention to her modest décolletage, and she was batting her heavily kohled eyes as if every word Emperor Peony said was the most fascinating thing she had ever heard.

In return, the emperor seemed delighted to have found such a willing audience for his prattlings. He, of course, was dressed as a peacock, resplendent in blue and green, and his blond hair was shining like an ironic halo.

"I do believe—" Natalia looked to Guy for confirmation, and he nodded. "—that she is Empress Lillian the Second of Malkuth."

"Yeah," Guy said, chuckling. "Be more subtle, Anise."

Luke scratched his nose. "I don't get it."

"Anise has set her sights on the emperor," Tear explained, "although I'd hoped she was kidding."

"Kidding about marrying someone with money and power?" Natalia said. "Have you met Anise?"

"Yeah, but isn't he old?" Luke said.

"He's the same age as Jade," Guy reminded him.

"Yeah. Old."

"Don't say that. You'll summon him," Natalia warned. She was kidding less about that than she was about Anise. The colonel had a way of popping up when others were talking about him.

"Nah, he's in the card room with the other geezers, drinking all of Uncle's good whiskey and taking everyone's money."

"That sounds about right," Guy said. As the music started again, he handed his empty glass to a passing servant. "Tear, may I have the honor of this next dance?"

The rouge in her cheeks didn't quite cover her pleased blush. Throughout the evening, she'd had the same response to every request, as if it was somehow embarrassing to admit that she enjoyed dancing. "Oh! Of course."

Natalia waved them away with a tinkly flutter of her fingers. Beside her, Luke was turning his hat around in his hands, never sure what to do with it. "You don't have to ask me to dance, Luke," she said when they were alone.

"Okay."

"Just because it's my birthday, I mean."

Even Luke could not miss such a hint. "Sorry. Did you want to dance?"

She clasped her hands together and gave him her best smile. "Why, Luke, that would be lovely. Thank you."

They joined the others for the quadrille, then, surprisingly, he stayed with her for the next waltz. Despite his initial reluctance, there was no clumsiness or hesitation in his steps. "You're quite good at this," she said.

His shoulder shrugged beneath her hand. "All those lessons when we were kids, I guess."

"You hated them, as I recall."

"Well, they were stupid," he answered. "I wasn't allowed to leave the house. When was I going to dance at any parties?"

"We were learning for our wedding," she said quietly, he nodded. "Now we'll dance at each other's weddings instead."

"Yeah."

When he turned her around, she saw Guy and Tear, also still together after the quadrille. She remembered how Guy would watch her lessons with Luke back then. And hadn't she tried to cajole him into practicing with her whenever Luke got frustrated and escaped up a tree? But Guy had always resisted, unable to touch her, and unable to breach the social line between them.

"It's funny how everything's changed," she mused, mostly to herself. "You know, Asch hated dance lessons, too."

"No, he didn't."

"Yes, he did. I was there."

Luke's hand gripped hers tightly. "No," he said again. "He didn't."

And she saw it in his green eyes, that he knew. "Oh."

"He couldn't say he liked it because he thought it wasn't manly to like dancing. But he got to hold you, and you were warm and soft, and you'd smile at him, and…." He shook his head and blinked away the memory that wasn't his. "What little kid even thinks about stuff like that?" he said, letting out a choked laugh. "Man, he was weird."

"Luke." The music was still playing, but they had stopped, standing there at the periphery of the floor as everyone else continued spinning around them. He was looking down, and only when she laid her hand on his cheek did he meet her eyes again. She tried to look beyond them, to wherever he might be listening. "You know that you'll always have a special place in my heart."

He nodded, and the languid waltz tempo faded to introduce an energetic reel. Anise appeared out of nowhere and grabbed Natalia's hand, pulling her away from Luke and into line with the other women.

Once again, she didn't get to say goodbye.

-x-x-x-

Anise never was one for standing still, and all night she'd been flitting around like a butterfly, making sure she was introduced to everyone of possible importance.

Guy noticed that she always found her way back to the emperor. She was being so very obvious about the whole thing, but if there was one thing the emperor appreciated, it was constant, unabashed attention.

"What can you tell me about your enchanting little friend from Daath?" Peony had asked Guy earlier.

"I can tell you that she's only nineteen, Your Majesty," Guy had answered, his tone dry as dust.

"Good, that means she'll be twenty soon, doesn't it?"

The young woman in question was now bouncing in front of Guy, as excited as he'd ever seen her. "I saw you talking to him. What did he say about me?"

"Anise, I'm begging you, keep me out of this." Evading the question might not be the best way to go, but Guy didn't want to get involved. If the emperor was just looking for an ego-boosting flirtation, Guy wouldn't be responsible for Anise expecting more.

On the other hand, Anise had proved time and again that she was more than capable of looking out for herself. Perhaps the emperor was the one who should beware.

"Ooh, wouldn't we have the most gorgeous children?" Anise asked with a dreamy sigh.

Guy let out a sigh of his own. Maybe there was no harm in letting her have this fairy tale for now, he supposed. He knew she was cynical enough not to believe it.

Luke, who had been witnessing most of this dalliance with his usual mix of obliviousness and couldn't-give-a-damn, suddenly had a contribution. "Hey, Natalia looks just like her mother Sylvia, right?"

"Uh, that was random," Guy answered.

"No, wait. Natalia looks like Sylvia, but her father was Largo."

"Yeah, so…?"

"So what will your kids look like?"

Anise came out of her fantasy and pointed an accusing finger at Guy. "Oh, my gosh! You're going to have scary little Largo babies!"

Luke was nodding. "Scary little Largo babies."

"Oh, come on, you guys are being ridiculous."

"They're going to be all hairy and angry," Anise continued, ignoring Guy completely.

"Yeah, they'll look like this." And then Luke scowled in a way that wasn't much different from his usual face. "Even the girls."

"Especially the girls," Anise said.

Okay, _now_ they were being completely ridiculous. The Cecille and Gardios families had always been pretty nice-looking, if he was allowed to say so, and Natalia was in a class of her own, so the chance of angry, hairy, scary babies was….

Damn. Why did they put this in his head?

They were still making goofy faces at each other, and Guy realized there was only one way to change the subject. "Anise," he said, "have I told you how lovely you look tonight?"

She snapped to attention and fluttered her fan in front of her. "No, you haven't, so tell me twice to make up for it."

"You're absolutely stunning. Empress Lillian herself surely never looked so magnificent." He dialed the charm up to eleven. "Men should be falling at your feet to pledge their eternal devotion. Bards will sing of your beauty for generations to come."

Anise giggled like a practiced coquette and narrowed her eyes in a way that was probably supposed to be alluring. "Careful, Count Gailardia, or I'll forget you're engaged to one of my best friends."

"Oh, please," Luke muttered, "like you don't have a history of trying to steal Natalia's fiancés."

"Don't be jealous, Luke." Anise turned her overly sweet smile to him. "Just because Natalia and I have upgraded doesn't mean we don't love you."

"Who's jealous?"

"You're so jealous your eyes are turning green."

"My eyes are already green, dummy."

Well, at least they'd stopped talking about scary little Largo babies. Now if only it were as easy to banish that image from his mind.

-x-x-x-

Natalia was sipping at another champagne cocktail, having lost count over the course of the evening, but she decided it didn't matter. It had been a wonderful birthday, and it was nice to forget her worries for a while. The party was a grand success, and everyone seemed to be having fun.

Across the room, Guy was talking with Noelle, making animated gestures as he described something, and she was nodding and smiling back at him. Noelle was completely adorable as a gossamer-winged fairy with a tulip-shaped skirt and flowers woven in her blonde hair. When she began gesturing in return, her wings fluttered.

They must have been discussing machines. Natalia had seen the same enthusiastic gestures earlier when Guy had been bragging to Ginji about his riding machine.

"Your count is very popular."

Natalia refused to let the duchess sour her evening. "Yes, he is. It's good to see so many people still appreciate honor and integrity."

"I hope he knows to be discreet," Lady Adele continued, undaunted. "You won't want any little bastards coming along and trying to claim a piece of the royal pie."

"No, it's only fully grown bastards who do that, isn't it," Natalia replied, equally cool.

The duchess simply clucked at her. One might think it was the sympathetic sort of clucking if one didn't know better. There was no kindness in the duchess's eyes or her tight-lipped smile. "Such naïveté may be charming, but it will do you no favors, Your Highness."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

"Don't you? We shall see."

Jealousy, resentment, ambition, or pure, unadulterated hatred. The duchess had any number of motives for saying what she did, and not one of them was honest concern. Natalia could be naïve, but she wasn't stupid enough to take anything the woman said to heart.

And she needed to stop taking the bait. Answering bitch with bitch might make her feel better in the short term, but it was no way to win a conversation, and no way to live her life.

Instead, Natalia flashed her most dazzling smile and said, "Thank you so much for coming. We're just _so_ happy to have you here." Even that should have sounded bitchy, but she looked at Guy as she said it, and happiness was all she felt.

She was happy. Nothing would change that. Not snide remarks, not cowardly threats.

Nothing.


	11. Chapter 11

How Far

Chapter 11

* * *

The palace was filled with people, important guests and their entourages, filling every available suite. Those who weren't so fortunate or so important found themselves staying at the inns or relying on the hospitality of their fellow nobles.

The wedding was in three days, and every day this week had involved some sort of activity or celebration, the regular pomp that surrounded a royal wedding. There had been Natalia's birthday gala to open the festivities, an operetta, a parade, and today was the exhibition swordfighting tournament at the coliseum. All were invited to participate.

Guy was looking forward to this almost as much as he was the wedding. Exercising every morning should have been enough to ease his restlessness, but finding Natalia in the gymnasium with him his first morning back didn't work. As long as he had to work out with her in her tiny skirt, watching the way she and that skirt moved, he was never going to burn off this… energy.

Eleven days had become eight, then five, now three. He was just barely going to make it.

He'd gotten up an hour earlier every morning since just to avoid her in the gym later, and now was heading back to his chambers to clean up before breakfast. Few others were yet stirring. Aside from the guards posted throughout the corridors, Guy was alone.

Solitude was welcome in its own way. Since coming back to Baticul, he'd gotten a taste of what royal life might be like. It was the smallest of tastes, of course, as he'd never have the same experiences Natalia or her father had endured. He'd joined Natalia for her meetings with her secretary and the protocol minister, which also served as tutorials for his place as prince. Even without ruling powers, he'd be by Natalia's side for public appearances and political functions, each with its own set of rules and requirements. With a longer, standard courtship, he would have been eased into this process, but he did his best to keep up with this crash course, and Natalia promised to help him learn whatever he needed to know as the situation called for it.

Along with public appearances, his face was now everywhere, and anonymity was quickly becoming a thing of the past. Their official engagement portrait was hanging in the long gallery, while its image had been appropriated for a line of commemorative merchandise, both authorized and otherwise. They appeared together on everything from bottles of wine to playing cards to bars of soap.

It was surreal, and, yeah, okay, kind of cool. He'd started collecting some of his favorite pieces. Secretly. He wondered if Natalia did the same thing. Maybe he'd ask if he could find a way to bring it up without sounding like a complete geek about it.

As he turned down the corridor, he felt a prickling at the back of his neck. He'd felt it all week, like he was being watched.

Probably because he was.

But this was different. It wasn't about being watched, but… being followed. Followed in a deserted hall? A hall that was deserted for the first time all week?

Was he being paranoid or particularly observant?

Slowly, he turned and glanced behind him. His eyes saw no one. His ears heard nothing, yet they strained for something.

He began walking again, and this time he knew he didn't imagine the second set of footsteps. Quiet, muffled, but out of time with his own.

Guy ducked in the first open doorway—the library—and pressed himself flat against the wall. Better to be paranoid than unprepared. With the palace full of people, anyone could be coming this way for any innocent reason. But since the arrow incident, as they'd been calling it, he'd been waiting for their assailant's next move. When it hadn't come, Natalia had tried to pretend she wasn't worried.

He knew her better than that.

The footsteps stopped outside the library door instead of continuing on. Maybe it was Natalia, looking for him, trying to sneak a moment of privacy before they had to endure another day of chaperones and activities and being the center of all attention. Maybe she didn't want to wait three more days any more than he did and was coming here to make him her first breakfast.

Spinning this into a fantasy was beside the point and a distraction he couldn't afford.

His dagger was in his boot, just as he'd shown Natalia, just as it had been since the day after the arrow incident, when he'd gone to the best weapons dealer in the city and bought the pair for the two of them. He hesitated to draw it. If he made a scene over nothing… threatening some high-ranking lord who could have him arrested, jeopardizing his and Natalia's goals… their marriage….

When his unwanted companion entered the room, he made the quick decision to forget the knife and grab the intruder's arm instead, twisting it behind them to give him the advantage. "Why are you following me?"

The girl was shaking in surprise and fear, and he immediately released her. "I beg your pardon, my lord."

Brilliant. His paranoia led him to assault one of the maids in the midst of morning duties. "I'm so sorry, Eliza," he replied. "I thought you were someone else." How stupid was he? Like anyone could follow him with guards posted everywhere.

Eliza curtsied nervously, her long dark bangs covering her eyes as she stared at her shoes. "No, my lord, you mustn't apologize." Her voice was shaky. "Please, please, don't fire me, my lord."

"Fire you?"

"I was supposed to have the library ready early this morning for the guests, but everything has been so busy, and I… I…." She buried her face in her hands as she dissolved into tears.

Damn, but he'd stepped in it. She was afraid he was disciplining her for getting behind in her work. Where had she worked before that her employers would physically punish her?

Eliza had only been at the palace for a few weeks, and he knew all too well how demanding it was to serve the royal family in the slow times, without the bustle of such an event as a wedding. It took some getting used to, and while she should be reprimanded, he still sympathized with her.

He reached into his pocket for his handkerchief and offered it to her. He couldn't bear to see a woman cry, or to be the cause of her distress. "It's all right, Eliza," he said gently. "Just get back to work." Housekeeping fell under Natalia's authority, and he knew she'd say he'd been too soft, but he'd worry about that later.

She nodded as she wiped her eyes with his handkerchief and twisted it in her hands. "Thank you for your kindness, my lord," she said, curtsying again in a quick, agitated manner, before scurrying off.

Only after she left did Guy remember that she said she was supposed to be preparing the library, but as he looked around, he saw that it had already been done. There was an atmospheric fire crackling in the fireplace, and the curtains had been opened to allow the morning sunshine to pour over the carpets and couches. The bookcases had been dusted and the tables polished until their surfaces could reflect darkness. Everything was tidy and welcoming.

Huh. She really had gotten her duties mixed up.

-x-x-x-

His little side-trip meant he was the last to arrive for breakfast. Even the king had beaten him to the dining room, which hadn't yet happened since Guy had been back. "Good morning, Your Majesty. Natalia." His bow was meant to be both deferential and apologetic. "Please excuse my tardiness."

"Four minutes late," Natalia said with a cluck of her tongue. "To the stocks with you."

"Yes, tardiness alone is a grievous offense, but to make the king wait for his breakfast is an unforgivable transgression."

Guy remained completely still until Natalia's giggle reassured him that the king was joking. It was an understandable concern. He'd never known the king to joke before. "It won't happen again," he said—just in case—then took his seat.

Tea was poured and the fruit course presented before the conversation continued.

"Anything wrong?" Natalia asked him as she took a bite of poached pear. He found himself momentarily distracted as he watched her tongue dart out to lick the syrup from her fork. "Guy?"

What was he supposed to say? That he thought someone had somehow gotten into the palace despite heightened security and had been following him? Certainly they were all on alert, but that was a whole other level of paranoid. No one who wasn't supposed to be here could get in. "No, nothing. Must have spent too long in the gym. Trying to get ready for this afternoon and everything."

"About that…." The king hadn't yet touched his plate. "Under the circumstances, Gailardia, I must insist that you withdraw from the exhibition."

"I beg your pardon, sir?"

"The risk is simply too high. I cannot have you putting yourself into such an uncontrollable situation."

This couldn't be. He'd been looking forward to the exhibition all week. The balls and ballets and concerts were fine, but this was his chance to participate. To get out there and show everyone who he was and what he could do.

"What about Luke?" Natalia asked, interrupting Guy's silent pity party.

"What about Luke?" her father answered.

"I know Luke's signed up for the exhibition as well," Natalia said. "Why don't we pair the two of them? They know each other's styles well enough that it should be an exciting match-up."

Who cared if it was breakfast and her father was sitting right there? He wanted to kiss her. If only the damn table wasn't between them. "Yeah—I mean, yes, I think that could work, if Your Majesty has no objections." If he had to watch the exhibition while he itched to be down on the coliseum floor, swinging his sword, sweating… if he had to sit there craving physical relief while Natalia sat next to him with her hands folded demurely in her lap…. "I'd very much appreciate the chance to participate, sir."

"Hmm." The king picked up his spoon and examined his reflection in the polished silver before answering. "I suppose that is an acceptable compromise."

"Thank you, Your Majesty. I shall not let you down." Natalia tapped the tip of her nose with her forefinger, but Guy pretended to ignore her. He'd rather be obsequious than offend the father of his bride, especially three days before the wedding. They were so close. He couldn't blow it now.

The first plates were cleared away and replaced and the tea refilled. Conversation once again halted while the kitchen maids moved in and out of the room.

"Along those lines, Gailardia," the king continued as if there had been no interruption, "have you given any thought to your duties as prince of this kingdom?"

Guy speared his fork through the broiled flounder, piercing the yolk of the soft-cooked egg on top. The kitchen had done an excellent job of assimilating some of his favorite dishes into the menus. "I thought I'd lay back eating bonbons while Natalia massages my feet and tells me I'm pretty."

She rolled her eyes at this, but he would have sworn she was smiling behind her teacup.

"Yes, well…." The king's sense of humor must have been an intermittent thing. "It is traditional for a non-ruling royal spouse to take up a cause or project for the benefit of the kingdom. Are you familiar with the rocket project in Sheridan?"

Familiar with it? Guy was practically obsessed with it. Many of the details were classified, but he had scrounged as many crumbs of information as he could from Ginji. And even Ginji had limited access to the project. "Some," he answered. Was he drooling? Maybe the flounder was just particularly buttery this morning.

"Natalia has suggested that your mechanical inclinations would make you an excellent liaison with Sheridan's designers and engineers. If you have no other preference, I'd like you to oversee this project, as well as the continuing Albiore project and any other technological developments. As with Natalia's duties with the public works board, this would involve approving funding and providing regular reports to the Council."

"Really?" He would be in charge of Sheridan? He'd have clearance to the most exciting technological research since… well, since the Albiore? He tried not to bounce in his chair like a child waiting for birthday cake. Natalia was grinning at him now. She knew he could barely contain himself. "I would be most honored," he said in his calmest voice. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

"Once everything's official, I'll have you briefed, and we'll see if it's a good match for you." The king said, then took a long pause over his cup of tea. "If not, we can move you to something more low-profile, like the Baticul Beautification Committee."

And his bubble was burst.

-x-x-x-

Save for two guards near the door, Guy was alone in the arena's warm-up area. He hadn't seen Luke yet this afternoon, but he was probably in the waiting room at the opposite end of the coliseum. Guy was still considered the "visiting challenger" for purposes of this match, so he got the smaller space. Nephew of the king and third in line for the throne trumped princess's fiancé, apparently.

Which was as it should be, of course.

He'd stretched and swung his exhibition sword around a few times, adapting his moves to account for its lighter weight, but now he was just fidgety, itching to go. One downside to participating was that he hadn't been able to watch any of the other rounds; instead he had to listen to the cheering and wish he was out there. As a future prince-by-marriage competing against an actual prince-by-blood, their match-up was considered the highlight of the tournament and held for the end.

It was finally almost their turn.

Though it was just an exhibition, Natalia had presented him with her yellow scarf to show her favor. She'd kissed the silk before tying it around his upper arm. For luck, she'd said.

He idly rubbed the fabric between his fingers and smiled to himself. How much luckier could he get?

"Your match is about to begin, my lord," one of the guards said, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Thanks." He took one last swig of water and prepared for his entrance.

As the cheers for the previous round died down, the announcer began his introduction. "And now the match you've all been waiting for! From the south end of the stadium, representing Grand Chokmah and His Imperial Majesty Peony the Ninth, and serving as champion of Her Royal Highness Princess Natalia, the challenger Count Gailardia Gardios!"

Yikes. That probably wouldn't do much to endear him to the people of Kimlasca. It made him sound like an interloper. Or worse, like the emperor's lapdog.

Still he entered to mostly cheers, louder from the Malkuth contingent, politely restrained from the Kimlasca side. As he took his place in the center of the arena, he bowed first to the emperor, then to the royal box. The king acknowledged him with a regal nod, and Natalia blew him a kiss. The cheering increased at this display.

Yeah, if anything, he was Natalia's lapdog.

"And from the north end," the announcer continued, "representing Daath and the Oracle Knights, and third in line for the royal throne of Kimlasca-Lanvaldear, let's hear it for Baticul's favorite son and coliseum champion, Viscount Luke fon Fabre!"

The cheers for Luke were much more enthusiastic, but Guy wouldn't begrudge him that. Luke was the light of the sacred flame, after all, and a true hero.

But none of that mattered. This was a fight, and Guy was going to make it a good one.

Luke walked to the center of the arena, just as Guy had, but with a stiff, arrogant gait. He was dressed all in black, including a balaclava that completely covered his short red hair and left only his eyes exposed. If he was trying to be intimidating, it wouldn't work. Guy just shook his head and chuckled.

"So, Luke," he said, holding out his hand for the customary handshake, "would you like your ass kicked on the right or the left?"

His hand was ignored, and the eyes that stared back at him were brown.

Not green.

It wasn't Luke.

-x-x-x-

Natalia had her own selfish reasons for making sure Guy was included in the day's exhibition. Since he'd been back, he'd been getting up early in the mornings to work out alone in the gymnasium. She'd hoped they'd find a post-breakfast routine together, but so far, it hadn't happened.

It was a funny thing to miss, considering they'd only done it twice, but she'd liked having him there with her. And she'd especially liked watching him. He was quick, yet within each movement was a series of intricate steps, choreographed almost like a dance, and just as impressive.

She couldn't blame him for going without her, she supposed. While she thought it would be nice to have some private time together, away from chaperones and meetings and events, he was still adjusting to the sudden spotlight and was sure to need time to himself to breathe. The microscope of royal life wasn't for the timid, and he'd been thrown into the fire of it all this past week.

He never complained, and when she asked if it was too much for him, he'd grin at her and say it was worth it.

For that and everything he put up with, she blew him an extra showy kiss when he bowed toward the royal box.

"I hope you don't mind," her father said to her as Luke was being announced, "but I'll be cheering for Luke. The emperor and I have a little side wager going."

"Father, really." Oddly, Luke didn't bow, but she waved to him all the same. From up here, she couldn't tell if he saw her or not. The downside of the royal box. The view might be an all-encompassing panorama, but the features of the participants on the arena floor were difficult to ascertain. Luke's silly all-black costume made it even harder to gauge his expression.

"It's only a friendly competition, Natalia," her father reminded her as the match began. "And besides, the emperor has given me generous odds, so confident is he in your Gailardia's abilities."

"Well, my Gailardia is rather skilled," she replied with a sly smile. "Prepare to lose." She'd planned to cheer for both of her boys. With pride now on the line, Luke was on his own.

However, Guy seemed slow to start. Luke's first move was only barely avoided, and a deafening cheer came from the Baticul side of the coliseum as Guy stumbled to dodge the swing.

"Rather sluggish, you meant, my dear?" the king wheedled.

She childishly stuck her tongue out at her father and returned her attention to the match. If Guy hadn't been ready before, that first swipe had woken him up. His feet moved just as she knew they could, nimble and balletic, and each thrust of his sword easily deflected Luke's attempts at a strike.

Strange, though, that Luke wasn't fighting in his usual manner. She didn't recognize most of the techniques he was using. They seemed less graceful, less masterful considering the years he'd spent learning from Van and Guy. Instead his movements seemed rough and heavy, as if he were relying on physical momentum rather than arduous practice.

"Do you suppose Luke learned that style in Daath?" she asked her father, who also seemed taken aback by Luke's choices.

But her father wasn't the one who answered her.

"That's not me."

-x-x-x-

"I should have known you weren't Luke," Guy said to his nameless, faceless opponent as he blocked a particularly clumsy thrust. "You're shorter than he is. And that's saying something, because Luke is short."

Taunting maybe wasn't the best move, but his opponent was also proving to be voiceless. His fighting style was erratic and unidentifiable, but nothing Guy couldn't handle. He had speed and technique, not to mention he'd learned from Pere, one of the best swordsmen of his day, and had fought in battles where his life and those of his friends had been on the line. Plus the fate of the world.

For all he knew, this exhibition had become life-or-death as well.

"So, who are you?" Speed and technique would be his only advantages, as his opponent had the better weapon. Guy's exhibition sword was light and flimsy, and each time it met the other, he could feel the heft behind proper steel. No doubt the blade had been finely honed before it was somehow snuck into the arena, and a real sword meant someone had connections. Even Guy had had to prove that he carried no other weapon into the coliseum. His dagger was back in his room. "Are you the one who threatened the princess? That's treason, you know."

Maybe the other man couldn't hear him over the roar of the crowd. Whether it was Guy or his opponent who scored a point, the spectators cheered at everything. He'd thought to signal to someone that something was wrong, but he couldn't afford the distraction of looking away. He had to keep it up until someone figured it out, or until he won, because like hell he was going to lose.

"Or someone hired you. Who was it?" Guy kept his voice calm, his motions fluid, even as his breathing became more ragged from effort. The worst thing to do would be to panic and give his opponent an opening. "Because I gotta tell you, the sooner you give this up, the easier it's gonna be for you."

While he tried to stay cool, however, the other man became more aggressive, and the crowd's cheers became louder. Guy remained on the defensive, sidestepping and blocking each thrust that came his way, hearing the slash of the blades come through the air, each clang of metal-on-metal echoing in his ears despite the noise all around.

"Do you really want to go down for this? Because you will." He had to stay focused, controlled, not become reckless in an attempt to end this. As long as his energy lasted, he would prevail.

If this flimsy sword didn't fail him first.

And where the hell was Luke, anyway?

-x-x-x-

"Luke?" Natalia looked from her cousin back to the match going on in front of her. "But you're—"

"They told me Guy had to back out," Luke said, his expression just as confused as hers. He was dressed in red and silver, not black, and the afternoon breeze ruffled his uncovered hair. "I came up here to find out what the hell." Both Natalia and her father continued to stare at him. "Oh, sorry, Uncle."

"Who said this, Luke?" the king asked.

"I don't know," Luke answered with a shrug. "Those tin cans all look alike to me." He pointed to the arena floor. "But there he is, so it must have been some kind of mix-up."

It could be a mix-up, a mistake, but the way panic suddenly seized at Natalia's heart told her this wasn't true.

Somehow she'd convinced herself that the threatening letter was a coward's way of going after her and her plans. That someone who would stoop to such a thing would never dare make a physical attempt on her life.

And now they'd finally made their next move.

"Father…." she said, the panic creeping into her voice.

The king was already standing. "Stop the match," he ordered the nearest guard. "Stop it now!"

"Um, does anyone want to fill me in?" Luke asked, but Natalia was too overwhelmed with worry to answer him.

She'd been wrong. Whoever had threatened them wasn't after her. They were after Guy.

And by insisting he compete today, she'd been the one to put him in danger. Despite the added security, the assailant got through.

How did they know? How did they do it? How was someone able to get past the guards, past Luke?

As she helplessly watched Guy fight below, it was so clear his opponent was an imposter. Even if he'd been using some arcane Daathic style, there was no pattern, none of Luke's natural movements and finesse.

She rose to her feet and leaned over the edge of the box. "Guy!" she shouted, but it was no use. Her voice was swallowed up by the crowd around her.

"It's okay," Luke said, standing next to her. He had no idea. It wasn't okay at all. It was her fault. She clutched blindly at his sleeve, desperate for something to hold onto. "Guy's good. He's got this."

Guy was good, and she had faith in him, but if someone could impersonate the guards and Luke, there was no telling what else they were capable of.

How much time had passed since the match began? It felt like an eternity, time slowing as the royal guards finally poured into the arena like syrup on a cold morning, then almost stopping as they made to apprehend the imposter.

Knowing he was surrounded, he made one last desperate lunge toward Guy.

Natalia screamed and buried her face in Luke's shoulder as Guy hit the ground.


	12. Chapter 12

How Far

Chapter 12

* * *

His head was pounding, making it difficult to concentrate on the doctor's questions.

"Can you tell me your name?"

The ringing in his ears didn't help, either. "Guy. Gailardia."

"And what year is it?"

"Um, twenty…twenty-four."

"Where do you live?"

Now a light was being flashed in his eyes. First the right, then the left, then the right again. "Grand Chokmah. No, wait…. Baticul. The palace."

"And who are these people in the room with us?"

These were questions a three-year-old could answer, but his head hurt too much to complain. Not too much to be annoyed, though. "Colonel Curtiss, Emperor Peony, King Ingobert, and Princess Natalia." Did he get a gold star and a lollipop now?

"What is your relationship with the princess?"

Okay, this was getting a little too personal. "We're getting married in three days." He met Natalia's eyes, expecting a smile, but her somber expression didn't change. Actually, they all looked worried. Even Jade, though he was best at almost masking it.

He'd only taken a bit of a fall. His feint was unsuccessful and let whoever that was get a cheap shot in. It had happened before. No big deal. He'd only been out for a couple seconds, right?

The doctor nodded and scribbled on a tablet. "Good, no apparent memory loss. Any dizziness?"

"A little, but it's fading, I think." Sitting up no longer made him feel nauseous, and even the ringing in his ears was starting to diminish.

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

"One."

The doctor took a few steps backward. "And now?"

Guy squinted and hoped that was a trick question. "Still one."

"Good. Headache?"

"Like a mother—I mean, yeah."

The doctor nodded again, then addressed the waiting entourage. "Possibly a mild concussion. Nothing too serious as he's not experiencing memory loss or double vision, but I'd like to examine him further and give him something for the pain."

That last part sounded good. The pain was making him testy.

"And other than a few bruises, you look to be in good shape. No broken bones. You must have fallen well."

"Thank you," Guy said stupidly. He'd had enough practice at falling, and was lucky that his attacker had abandoned his awkward swordplay to knock him down bodily instead. Well, he guessed that was lucky. His pounding head probably wouldn't call it that. And had he been a less experienced fighter, things could have ended much differently.

The other man's sword had impaled the ground just to the right of his shoulder. From the stands, it must have looked much worse than it was. He guessed he couldn't blame everyone for hovering. He would be doing the same for any of them.

"Perform whatever tests you need, but if you'll excuse us, doctor, I need to speak to him privately first," the king said.

"Of course, Your Majesty. I'll be just outside."

However, when the doctor left, the king wasn't the first to speak. "I assume it just slipped your mind to inform me that one of my citizens was in danger," the emperor said, and Guy winced at the sharpness of his tone. The emperor had a very misleading temperament. He could be irreverent to the point of absurdity, he could be serious when necessary, but he seldom got mad. He and Jade had that in common. It was when they were outwardly angry that you knew it was bad.

"I'm fine," Guy answered, but he could have saved his breath.

"This is a closed investigation," the king replied. "The attack happened on my land to my kingdom's future prince."

"He's not your prince yet. Until he is, he's still a member of the Imperial Court."

"It's nice to feel so wanted—"

"Not now, Gailardia," the king snapped before addressing the emperor again. "As it is, we have the perpetrator in custody, and General Cecille is questioning him."

"Jade," the emperor ordered.

Jade was already striding toward the door. "On it."

"This is now a joint investigation," the emperor continued after the door had closed. "I'd ask if you have any objections, but I'm quite certain I won't be accepting any. And I expect that you will tell me everything that's happened. Please don't disappoint."

Natalia had remained silent, like a child trapped with her bickering parents. Her eyes, however, had stayed on Guy the entire time, and as she approached him, he could see the hazel shimmering with a mix of fear and relief.

For a moment he flashed back to the little girl she used to be, marching up to him with some command or other, bossy and much too close for comfort. Those times she'd try to get in his personal space and make him obey her, and all he wanted to do was get away from her.

He'd give anything for her to be bossy and demanding right now. He knew how much she hated feeling out of control. He wasn't a fan, either.

She came to a stop before the examining table, still without a word, and he took her hand. "Looks like it was me they wanted after all," he said quietly. "I'm sorry."

Her hand was warm, and she laced her fingers through his, squeezing tightly. "I swear, Gailardia, if you ever frighten me like that again…."

"I know," he answered. "I'm sorry." He couldn't put her at ease with levity this time. Whoever was against him had stepped up their game, had the means to turn a seemingly empty threat into reality. Whether they'd only meant to scare him or to kill him, he didn't know, and fortunately, he hadn't had to find out. Yet.

They were after him. He might not have cared in the past. He could deal with that. But he wouldn't put Natalia in danger. It wasn't about the politics of their marriage. It wasn't about international harmony or the good they could do for so many people.

And it sure as hell wasn't about friendship anymore.

As she continued searching his eyes, he knew it. Whatever hesitation he'd had a week ago about identifying it was gone.

Maybe he'd known that night he'd first kissed her. Maybe that was why he'd been reluctant to claim it went deeper than simple attraction. He'd stood there looking at her, as the moon chaperoned from the sky, as she'd stared at the ring he'd placed on her finger. Her eyes then had misted with bravely unshed tears of remembrance, of what she'd lost.

He knew how much Natalia had loved Asch. Guy wouldn't and couldn't replace him, or insist that she forget him. Never would he ask that of her.

But he wanted her to accept him. Not as a substitute, not as good enough, not as a friend who'd be by her side through whatever happened. It was so much more than that for him now, and it had only taken getting some sense literally knocked into him to admit it.

Her yellow scarf, the one given to him for luck, had been untied from his arm during the doctor's preliminary examination and sat on the table nearby. Was it random luck to have her in his life, or was it written in a Score they'd never hear? All they could know was that this marriage was their choice, it had been her decision in coming to him, and what would he have done if she hadn't? He might never have known how happy this strong, stubborn, giving woman could make him.

He had to tell her.

-x-x-x-

Natalia brought Guy's hand to her heart, clutching it to find that strength of his that said he was all right, needing that proof so she could believe it and breathe normally again.

It was a strange place to realize these feelings in. Everything in the infirmary was cold and angular. The lights were too bright, unnaturally so. The walls were a stark white, the tables and cabinets hard, wood and metal with unforgiving corners, and the instruments severe and silver. The clipped discussion between her father and the emperor wasn't the sort of background music one might have wanted for such an occasion.

But as she looked at him, none of that seemed to matter. She just needed to touch him, to see her reflection in his eyes, that calm, clear blue. How accustomed she'd become to seeking reassurance there.

The most important moments of their courtship had been unromantic by traditional standards, so it followed that this would be, too.

Though he'd done things properly, hadn't he, giving her a ring under the moonlight, waiting for the perfect moment. Why was it that she chose to propose in a greasy, cluttered workshop and to declare herself in a clinic that smelled like antiseptic instead of roses?

Waiting wasn't an option. She'd waited before, naively assuming there would be another chance, that there would be a later, an after. If she had one regret in life, it was that she hadn't gotten to tell Asch one last time, to make sure he knew.

It was a mistake she wouldn't make again. There was no later. There was only now.

She held Guy's hand against her breast, against her heart, and said the words she never thought she'd say to anyone else. "I love you." Her voice shook with the truth of it. She was in love with him, her best friend, everything he was and everything he meant.

Somehow it seemed anticlimactic to say it. Words weren't enough to capture something so profound, something that made her life whole again. She'd shut herself off from the possibility of feeling this way about someone new to save herself from the indescribable pain of being left behind with nothing but memories and unfulfilled dreams. Part of her soul had been ripped from her, and for years, she'd pretended it hadn't been like dying herself. She'd had to go on, for her friends, for her father, for her kingdom.

And through it all, Guy had been by her side, whether in flesh or in spirit. He'd understood and listened and given her strength when she'd needed it most.

Now she needed him most.

"I love you, Guy." If the words weren't enough, she hoped he could feel it in the way her heart was beating beneath their joined hands.

His mouth had opened as if he were about to speak, but then it curved into that slow smile that she felt like a caress. "Damn, I wanted to say it first." His voice was low and velvety, like a blanket she wanted to wrap around herself, and his free hand reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear. "I love you, Natalia." His fingers moved to brush her cheek, lingering there with a gentleness that she found herself leaning into like a pampered cat. "I am completely in love with you."

As long as it had been since she'd said the words, it had been even longer since she'd heard them.

Forgetting everything else, she leaned down to kiss him, her lips touching his properly, chastely, yet making her entire body tingle. His hand traveled from her cheek to her shoulder, down her arm, then slipped around her waist to pull her closer. That bit of encouragement led her to open her mouth and slide her hand around the back of his head to drag her fingers through his hair.

He sucked in his breath and broke away from her, his face contorted in pain.

She immediately dropped her hands. He hadn't been kidding about that headache. "I'm sorry, darling." She tried to step back, but his arm remained firmly wrapped around her. "I didn't mean to make it worse."

"Actually, you made me forget for a second." Though she could see the pain still in his eyes, he grinned at her. "No one ever healed me like you do."

Taking that as permission, she went to kiss him again.

"Wouldn't you agree, Natalia?"

This time it was her father's voice that made Natalia jump, and Guy reluctantly let go of her. They'd forgotten too much, apparently. "I'm sorry, Father, will you repeat that?" Heat spread over her cheeks, but she refused to be embarrassed to be caught comforting her injured fiancé.

The king looked annoyed, while the emperor looked amused. "I said, the ongoing investigation must remain confidential, but we'll need to put out an official story on what happened today. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes, Father."

"Yes, sir," Guy added.

"Then as we're all in concord, any suggestions?"

"Yes, Gailardia," the emperor said, his amusement incongruous with the circumstances, "who would you say has just cause to attack you, besides the king, who seems none too pleased with your indecorous groping of his lovely daughter?"

Perhaps it was time to let go of worry, or at least set it aside, and focus on practicalities with calm and logic, but Natalia didn't think that frivolity was the right tack here. If her father's expression was any indication, he agreed.

"Well, if we were to go with the most likely explanation…." Here Guy paused as if he were thinking, but Natalia could tell he was fighting showing any pain. She reached for his hand again, and he grasped it readily, squeezing hard before continuing. "We could say one of Natalia's rejected suitors had taken it upon himself to challenge me for her affections."

She nodded. "Not only is it a believable story, it could very well be true."

"Both the princess and the position would be attractive prizes," he continued with another squeeze of her hand. She wasn't sure if it was a reflex against the pain or an apology for referring to her as a trophy to be won. "Someone could be driven to act before it's too late."

She hoped that was all it was. Someone she'd rejected, making a last effort to impress her.

Unfortunately, she knew better. As did they all.

But it still made a good explanation for the public until more information was known.

"For now, that should suffice," the king said. "We'll have a statement prepared to that effect, with no further comment."

There was a knock on the door, which then opened to reveal Bertrand, one of the royal guards. In light of the incident with Luke, the guards had raised their faceplates for immediate identification. It was still unknown who had told Luke that Guy had withdrawn from the exhibition, or if such misdirect had been intentional infiltration, another imposter or a traitor among the ranks. Natalia supposed anyone guilty wouldn't be foolish enough to stay around for questioning, but what better place to hide than in the uniform of the kingdom's elite?

"I beg your pardon, Your Majesty, but the Commander wishes to speak with you," Bertrand said in his scratchy baritone, like his throat was lined with sandpaper. Facial recognition in his case was unnecessary. He'd been with the guard since Natalia was a little girl. Even Luke would have known him by voice alone.

"In a moment," her father answered, then he turned to address her once more. "We will continue this later. I'll have the doctor resume his tests in the meantime."

"Thank you , Father."

Oddly, this left the three of them alone in the room together. The emperor made no similar overture. Surely he had inquiries of his own to make.

"Well, well, isn't this peculiar," he drawled, casually crossing his arms. "It's not often I get to play the chaperone. I'm sure to do a poor job of it."

If that was permission to resume their display of affection, Natalia wasn't going to oblige him. She looked to Guy, who'd shut his eyes either in exhaustion or exasperation.

She was about to go retrieve the doctor herself—Guy had always been a trooper, but she knew he needed those painkillers—when her own picture caught her eye. In the emperor's folded arms was a book with her image on the cover. "May I ask what it is you're reading?"

The emperor held the book up for her inspection. The cover illustration featured both her and Guy and was an artist's rendering, as opposed to their official engagement portrait, which she was used to seeing on commemorative items such as teacups and thimbles. It was also a bit more… dramatic. None of her gowns had a neckline that low. "The charming Miss Tatlin has been selling these outside the coliseum. I'd be surprised that you didn't see her yourself, if not for the large crowds. She must have the most popular booth along the promenade."

"Does she indeed," Natalia answered.

-x-x-x-

Natalia had stayed with Guy through the doctor's remaining exams. There was no lollipop waiting for him at the end of the gauntlet, but he did finally get the painkillers. Now his brain felt like it was wrapped in layers of cotton, but it was preferable to the pounding of a hundred tiny hammers.

Instead of returning to the palace, she insisted on finding Anise down in the temporary bazaar of souvenirs and other royal memorabilia. Fine, he was curious, too, even if he wanted sleep more. But that wasn't allowed for a few more hours, until it was certain his condition didn't become more severe, so to the promenade they walked.

Due to the increased threat, their accompanying guard had likewise increased. A contingent of six guardsmen surrounded them, keeping the public at bay. He didn't mind being recognized—he didn't much care for it either, but he accepted it—yet this made him feel more conspicuous. He appreciated the caution, but losing his autonomy was something he hadn't completely come to terms with yet.

He held Natalia's hand as they walked, their fingers entwined. That little bit of normality was an oasis of sanity in the middle of all this.

And he saw the advantage of the guards as they approached Anise's booth. The crowds parted like curtains in the breeze. Well, that would have been the poetic way to put it. In actuality, they were much less subtle. Natalia treated her entourage like a battering ram, pushing its way through everything in its path.

Anise and Florian stood behind a table, two stacks of books resting on the surface, several empty boxes discarded underneath. The book's cover featured an illustration of Guy in a dashing swordfigthing pose and Natalia swooning in a diaphanous gown. In bold dramatic font, the title promised _The Incredible True Love Story of Princess Natalia and Count Gailardia_, but then, at the bottom, in very small print… _A Novel_. She was a clever one, all right.

In front of Florian sat a money box and a sign that read, "Thank you for supporting the Reformed Order of Lorelei."

Yeah, Anise was _really_ good.

"Anise!"

"Natalia!" Anise mocked Natalia's impatient tone. She was in uniform with her hair up in a severe twist similar to the way Jozette wore her hair while on duty. She looked like a model representative of the Order, which naturally made Guy and Natalia suspicious.

"I'm sure you have an explanation for this," Natalia continued.

"And, hey, I'm fine," Guy added. Not that he was seeking attention.

"Of course you are," Anise said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Luke told us. But I have to say, your fall was great for sales!"

"This is all we have left," Florian said. To avoid comparisons to Ion and find his own path, Florian had ultimately decided against serving the Order in an official capacity, and so was dressed in nicely tailored civilian coat and trousers to match Anise's businesslike appearance. He'd also cut his hair extremely short, and while he'd grown into a pleasant-looking young man, he still had a bit of a baby face. It made him imminently trustable, and Anise took full advantage of the fact. As a result, the two of them could be a dangerous pair.

"I'm waiting," Natalia warned.

Any explanation was obvious, but Anise answered anyway. "Royal weddings only come around so often. Did you think I wasn't going to get in on this somehow?"

"And this is your contribution to our legacy? A tawdry bodice-ripper?"

"Your proposal was so boring! So I jazzed things up a little," Anise replied with a careless shrug. "And people seem to like it. I had to raise the price, it's been selling so fast. Should have printed more. Who knew, right?"

"It's cheap and salacious."

"It's supply and demand," Anise countered. "Honestly, Natalia, someone in your position should really understand how capitalism works."

Guy picked up a copy and flipped through it. The names were familiar, but not much else. He was pretty sure most of these places didn't even exist. Then a particular word caught his eye. "I get to fight a dragon? Awesome."

Natalia looked intrigued in spite of herself and searched a second copy for the same page. "What about me? I want to fight the dragon, too."

"No, you get to nurse Guy back to health."

Natalia's eyes narrowed. "That's terribly sexist, Anise. I expect better from you."

"It's a classic romance trope," Anise explained. "People would be disappointed if I didn't go there."

As Natalia continued her litany of complaints—which were valid, sure, but he was kind of impressed with Anise's ingenuity regardless—he thumbed through a few more pages. "So, do I get the girl in the end? Wait, don't tell me. I want to be surprised when I finish reading my free copy."

"Free?!" Anise repeated the word as if he'd said "poisoned".

"Yeah," Guy answered. He closed the book and tapped a finger against the cover illustration. "I mean, it's my face on the front. Good likeness, by the way."

"I designed the cover," Florian said proudly.

"Nice work, my man."

"Yes, I believe I'm entitled to a free copy as well," Natalia said.

Two free copies. Two lost profits. Poor Anise, but she should have seen this coming. She was lucky Natalia was letting her off at all. "But a percentage of the proceeds go to the Reformed Order of Lorelei!" she protested.

"What percentage?" Natalia asked with a skeptical arching of her brows.

"That's to be determined," Florian answered, and Anise glared at him. She clutched the money box to her breast like a mother protecting her newborn.

"In that case," Natalia said, "I believe fifty percent to be a reasonable allotment. Wouldn't you agree, Guy?"

He didn't know where she was going with this, but he was on board. "Yeah, I'd say that sounds about right."

"Fifty?" Anise's voice went up another octave in dismay, then she sighed. "Fine, fifty percent."

Natalia closed her copy of the book and examined the cover with a shake of her head. It was clear she didn't appreciate being cast in the swooning damsel role, and Guy didn't dare say out loud that he found it a little hot. It must have been the dress. Florian could draw a dress. "And as I'm the subject of this work, I want twenty-five percent of the proceeds to go to the Baticul Centre for Replica Welfare."

Florian beamed at her, while Anise helplessly watched her profits disappear before her eyes.

"And, Guy, as co-subject, where would you like your twenty-five percent to go?" Natalia asked with an exaggerated flutter of her lashes.

He scratched his chin in faux contemplation as Anise continued to chafe. "I think Anise's generosity would be most appreciated by the Malkuth War Orphans' Fund," he replied. "A cause near and dear to my own heart, and I hope to hers now as well."

Natalia nodded her approval, her hazel eyes shining with humor despite her otherwise stern demeanor. Bossy princess, swooning damsel… yeah, either way worked for him. "So, you'll see to that, then, Anise," she said, and it was not a question.

Anise grumbled something that was an assent or a curse or both.

And as they walked away with their free books in hand, Florian's cheery voice called after them. "Thank you for supporting the Reformed Order of Lorelei!"


	13. Chapter 13

How Far

Chapter 13

* * *

After the excitement of yesterday's events, Natalia found herself alone at the breakfast table. A letter was waiting from her father, explaining that he was engaged in an early morning meeting with his advisors and likely would not see her until this afternoon's conference to discuss the investigation and charges against Guy's attacker.

And just as she had requested her first cup of tea, Merton arrived with a note from Guy. "I see everyone's feeling rather epistolary this morning," she mused as she took the folded missive, and she motioned for Merton to stay while she read should a reply be necessary.

In a bold yet tired hand, Guy had written a preemptive apology for missing the day's scheduled event. On doctor's orders, he was instructed to get plenty of rest to ensure a full, quick recovery, but even so, he'd had difficulty maintaining a properly deep sleep. He'd awoken to feel as if he hadn't slept at all, and had decided it would be better to stay in bed than to accompany her to the hospital as planned. He promised to see her at lunch and asked her to convey his most heartfelt regrets to everyone.

Beneath his signature, he'd hastily added, "_If you need anything, ask Finn_."

"Finn?" she wondered aloud. "Who is Finn?"

Anyone else would have shuffled their feet and looked down awkwardly, but Merton was ramrod straight. "That would be I, Your Highness."

Merton had a first name. That seemed wrong somehow. "Your name is Finn? I must say it doesn't suit you." Her tone was not unkind, more bewildered.

"It's short for Phinneas, though my sister would tell you it's short for 'Finicky'."

"Ah, now that suits you." And he had a sister. So he wasn't just formed out of whole cloth as she'd longed suspected.

That was a thread she wanted to tug, but alas, further inquiry to unwrap the riddle that was Merton would have to wait for another day. Natalia folded the letter and placed it beside her plate. "How is he, Merton?" she asked.

He was not the type to physically relax at her return to the matter at hand, but she sensed his relief all the same. "As well as can be expected, Your Highness, though a few more hours sleep can only do him good."

She would agree that Guy's recovery was more important than a personal appearance. He'd have plenty of opportunities for that later. It was part of the job description.

"All right," she replied. "Tell him… well, tell him that I'll expect him for lunch, then."

"Yes, Your Highness."

Merton bowed and prepared to leave, but before he could do so, Natalia saw the faint lines beneath his eyes. The valet was impeccable as always save this one tiny detail, and he was too pertinacious to let his own exhaustion interfere with his service. She knew that he would prefer she not notice, because it was more evidence that he was a mere mortal, and that was a truth too cruel for this world. "And Finn?" She had to try it just once. Her lips curved in a smile, half-teasing, half-grateful, but he didn't so much as blink. "Thank you for taking such good care of him."

He acknowledged her appreciation with his usual stoicism and slight discomfort at the implication that he had feelings as well as failings. "He pays me well, Your Highness."

"Of course." One of these days she'd get him to admit that his loyalty extended beyond a healthy pay envelope.

With no need to dawdle if she was eating alone, Natalia finished breakfast quickly, waving off the maids after nibbling at a bit of fruit, cheese, and pastry. It seemed a shame not to partake of whatever richness the kitchen had prepared, but her father and Guy were heartier morning eaters that she was. The cooks and maids would benefit from her dainty appetite by sharing the surplus among them. It was only fair that they enjoy the results of their labors and talents.

She had meant to spend some private time with Guy this morning—well, private was relative with guards and chaperones about—but as that was now out of the question, she decided to go to the hospital early.

Unlike the showy appearances and exhibitions of the past few days, this was quieter, more personal, reflecting what Natalia found truly important. The glamorous parts of royal life were nice and all, but there was so much more. And not the big things, the treaties and trade agreements and international politics, but the little things, the day-to-day duties that kept the kingdom and the city running. The administrative details, the behind-the-scenes meetings that weren't about the spotlight but about doing what needed to be done. Anyone who thought that Natalia did not work for her people, that her life was just about ostentatious balls and glittery gowns, could not appreciate everything she did. She did not work for accolades or appearances. It was her sacred and solemn responsibility to her people, and even then, it was a responsibility she carried out gladly.

Ground had been broken on the new annex earlier this month, and work was progressing as scheduled. She toured the site with the building engineers and met with the project foreman. She really did miss Guy here, as he would have gotten so much out of the experience, looking over the blueprints and understanding more of the technical and mechanical elements. This was to be the most technologically advanced medical center in the world and would feature the latest machines from Belkend. Years of research would finally go into practice for the benefit of everyone in the kingdom.

At the conclusion of her tour, Klein, the chief engineer, briefly pulled her aside. "Forgive me, Your Highness, as I know your time is valuable, but I'd like to speak to you about the old weapons factory."

Natalia suppressed a shudder at the memory of spiders and other monsters that had haunted the abandoned building. She imagined it was still dank and oily, though she hadn't been back to see for herself. "Yes, what about it?"

"I've been discussing some ideas with the owner of the building, and we're working on a proposal for the city."

"What sort of proposal?"

"I'd rather not say until the numbers are concrete, but if Your Highness would not object, we'd like to meet with you about it before the next board meeting."

She was intrigued. It would be good for the city to have that factory functioning again. But pity those who had to clear it out first. It was a right proper mess. She could practically feel the cobwebs in her hair. "Contact the board secretary to see if there's an opening in my schedule, though it will have to wait until late next month. I'll be away on diplomatic visits to Grand Chokmah and Daath."

He nodded. "That gives us time to have a convincing proposal ready. Thank you, Your Highness."

As she'd hoped, her early start meant that there was time enough after the tour to visit some of the hospital patients, and she stopped by the children's wing. This was one of her favorite parts of her job, and she made the effort to come by as often as possible. She could talk about dresses and dolls with the girls, and the boys, some of whom pretended not to be interested in princessy things, would start listening when she shared tales of adventures, either her own or read from the ward's collection of picture books. And she loved snuggling the littlest children—if they were up for the attention—while she chatted with their mothers or fathers.

People could be intimidated at first to be in such personal conversation with the princess, especially with her entourage of guardsmen hovering nearby, but they soon opened up to her earnest and thoughtful questions about their lives, their challenges, their hopes and needs. She was glad to talk about herself and the wedding if asked, but she always brought the focus back to her precious citizens. The only way to be an effective and just ruler was to listen to her people. To learn their stories.

Never would she forget what her people had done for her. They had saved her life, given her their support and placed their faith in her regardless of where she had come from.

She would do everything in her power to be worthy of their devotion.

-x-x-x-

She returned to the palace just in time for lunch, perhaps a bit scattered, but energized, too. Guy was waiting for her in the dining room as promised, and looking tired still, but his eyes lit up when she appeared. "I'm sorry," he said again, wrapping her in a quick embrace before the maids could interrupt with their service. His nose brushed against her hair, breathing her in, and she sighed with pleasure at the brief contact, warm and solid as ever. "I really wanted to go with you today. I just needed—"

"I know, it's all right," she assured him as she reluctantly pulled away. "But know that you're not getting out of the ribbon-cutting ceremony. Someone needs to pose with the oversized scissors."

"I wouldn't miss it," he answered with a grin.

Her father was still in his session, she supposed, so the two of them were able to have their semi-private time after all. She filled Guy in on her visit while they ate, doing her best to explain the technical details. He knew that machines were not her area of expertise and kept his questions basic, but she could tell he longed to see everything for himself. When they were back from their honeymoon and diplomatic duties, she would schedule another tour of the site for him. Then he could pester the engineers to his heart's content.

Guy ate ravenously, having missed breakfast, inhaling the smoked salmon and fennel tart between questions, and taking a second portion while she was still working on her first. She was glad to see him feeling back in sorts, but she could sense his preoccupation as well, and she shared it. It was fine to pretend this was an ordinary day, an ordinary lunch and conversation, but there were other questions at the forefront of their minds, and the hope that they would be answered this afternoon.

If only it were as simple as that. She should have known better.

They arrived in the Council chamber to a somber atmosphere. The lightness they enjoyed at lunch vanished, and they took their seats quietly. For purposes of this meeting, information would be disclosed only to the few. Intelligence and security had their own meetings, their own orders, but those here could be trusted to engage in complete candid discourse for the sake of getting everything out in the open.

The king was at the head of the table, and Natalia sat next to him, with Guy beside her. The emperor sat at the opposite end, and across from her were Luke and his father—representing both the Royal Council and the royal family—and Jade. Jozette took the remaining place on Guy's other side and whispered something to him. He responded by nodding but said nothing else. Natalia bit her curious tongue. All would be revealed in time.

The representation seemed unbalanced, she noticed, heavily Kimlascan, but that could not be avoided. The emperor's top advisors and ministers were back in Grand Chokmah, handling daily affairs in his absence, and would be briefed from a distance and upon his return next week.

Now that everyone had arrived, the doors were shut, and guards were posted outside. No one said a word. Two pitchers of water sat in the center of the table, and a filled glass at each place, but these went untouched.

"How are things proceeding at the hospital, Natalia?" her father said in a distracted sort of tone. She almost jumped at the sudden break in silence.

"On schedule and budget both, but we can speak about that later," she replied.

He made a vague sound of acknowledgement, and the room fell silent again, waiting for the king to lead the conversation.

Natalia looked at Guy beside her, but he just raised his eyebrows as if to say he didn't know what to expect, either.

"Then please tell everyone what you told me, General," the king continued after another lengthy pause.

Jozette stood as she would before a formal military briefing, though she was wearing civilian clothes. "The man we have in custody is called Hector Rowan. He refused to say more to me once he heard my name is Cecille."

When Natalia looked at Guy again, he didn't seem surprised by this.

"Colonel," the king said next. Jozette retook her seat, and Jade stood just as she had.

"Rowan is a mercenary from Chesedonia," Jade continued. "While he was not predisposed to speaking with me, either, I… convinced him that it would be in his best interest to cooperate."

Natalia did not ask how said convincing took place. While she was aware of Jade's natural talent for persuasion, further details were better left unsaid.

"A mercenary," the emperor repeated. "So this was not a random attack. It was premeditated." They had all assumed as much, given the number of hoops the man would have had to bypass to place himself in the arena with Guy. "Though I can't imagine financial gain was the sole motivation in attacking a high-ranking noble and impersonating a member of the royal family."

"Impersonating me badly," Luke griped to no one in particular. "Why was he so short?"

"My read is that Rowan is young, naïve, and anxious to make a name for himself. These would be reasons both for and against agreeing to such an ill-advised scheme. The true motivation, of course, lies with the man who hired him," Jade said. "And Rowan claims his employer is a man named Malcolm Laskey."

Guy made a derisive sound at this. The name was not familiar to Natalia, but apparently it meant something to him. Before she could ask, however, he said, "Yeah, that's a fake name if I ever heard one."

"Indeed," Jade replied. "If we take Malcolm Laskey to be a play on both Malkuth and Kimlasca, then our man is telling us he could be anyone from anywhere."

"That helps us little," the duke said while the king remained silent. "And it doesn't answer the question of motive."

"Ah, but this is where things get interesting," Jade said. He paused to take a sip of water, or to add a note of suspenseful drama. Natalia wasn't sure which, but she wasn't much in the mood for his theatrics. "Apparently, Rowan was told that the princess was in danger."

"Me?" she said. She certainly hadn't seen that coming. Part of her still thought that she was the intended target of the original threat. Instead someone meant to... protect her? From what? "If they are not the ones after me, then how am I in danger?"

Guy had gone as silent and stone-faced as her father, but she could feel his leg bouncing with repressed frustration beneath the table.

"You would be in danger if your fiancé were marrying you under false pretenses," Jade answered.

"Rowan was told," Jozette said, her voice straining to remain even and professional, "that Guy is marrying into the royal family to seek revenge for the murder of his family."

What a vicious lie. No one who knew him would believe that.

When she reached for his hand, Natalia found that Guy had been pressing his fist into his thigh. His hand opened to take hers, and his leg stopped twitching, but the tension did not leave his body.

"Geez, is it six years ago already?" Luke said. "We've been through all this."

"Yes, but that's the thing," Jade replied, finally taking his seat again. "I believe the implication here is that Guy is playing a long con. He told you who he is and why he's here and that he's put the past behind him for the purpose of gaining everyone's trust. When such complacency and laxness has been achieved, he can put his true plan into action."

"That's absurd," the duke said. "Guy lived in my home for years. He had full access to my wife and son. Anything he'd wanted to do, he would have had ample time and opportunity."

"Not really helping his case here," Luke muttered, but Natalia disagreed. Revenge might be best served cold, but this would be positively sub-zero. It made no sense, not on any level.

"So that's it?" Guy said bitterly, and Natalia squeezed his hand. He had to know she didn't believe this. "I tricked Natalia into proposing to me so that, what, I could kill her?"

"You're not thinking grand enough, Guy," Jade answered, adjusting his glasses with a casual flick of his fingers. "Marrying into the royal family of Kimlasca-Lanvaldear would be the perfect act of revenge for what happened to the Cecilles, all of House Gardios, and even Malkuth. You'd have access to Kimlascan intelligence and military secrets through your cousin, the esteemed general, which you could then pass along to me for a full-scale invasion. Such information could be enough to make the difference for the empire's chances at victory."

"Another war," Jozette said in a somber tone. "That last thing any of us wants. Is that what's truly behind this?"

"Or, think of it this way," Jade continued as if she hadn't spoken. "With your cousin and her influence over the military at your disposal, the two of you could overthrow the royal family and set yourselves up as king and queen. The ultimate prize. Then incite war with Malkuth or not, as you like. This could be the dawn of a new era."

"It's preposterous," Natalia said. Guy's hand was still gripping hers like a lifeline, and the band of her engagement ring cut into her flesh. "Surely you don't believe any of this, Father."

The king said nothing.

"I agree, Ingobert," her uncle said. "It should be unnecessary, but I will personally vouch for Guy."

"Me too," Luke said. "Guy's done more for me and this kingdom than most people ever will. If that's not enough—"

"No, of course," the king said. His fingers were steepled in front of him, and he stared ahead at nothing. "Of course, it's preposterous." After a measured glance at Natalia, which she could not read, he leveled his gaze at Jade. "We will hear no more slander against our future prince."

"Well, it was a curious theory at any rate," Jade said with a shrug, as if they'd been discussing an unexpected change in the weather. "And the way I'd go if I were looking to discredit Guy. Which, if my humble opinion carries any weight, is the likely back-up plan to this whole scenario."

"Kill me, scare me, or discredit me," Guy said, his tone flat, "doesn't matter which as long as it prevents the wedding."

"One way or another, accusations spread and peace breaks down," the duke added.

"Yes, but two days before the wedding? It's a bit late for such tactics," the king replied.

"Well, it was a rather hasty engagement," the emperor countered. "I myself only learned about it after the fact. The arbitrary deadline was your Council's requirement, was it not?"

"With the hopes that I would be forced to choose one of their idiot sons," Natalia said. "None of them saw me wanting more than that." Now she had everything she wanted, and like hell would she give it up. "The Council vowed to support my decision, but have they really?"

"Natalia, you know we stand by you," the duke said.

"You were there, Uncle," she replied, harsher than she intended. "You heard how Duke Creemore spoke to me. I still believe he has the strongest motive." After a sharp look from her father, she closed her mouth. It might not be prudent to name names and air internal grievances in front of their Malkuth guests, but was she honestly supposed to protect that horrible man?

"And he was censured by the entire Council," her uncle told her. "He hasn't spoken a word of it since other than to apologize and give the union his full official support."

"Even so," she said.

"Your feelings have been noted, Natalia," her father said, as if that were some sort of final word on the subject. "We are investigating all possibilities, not just those based on your own personal dislike."

She felt as if she'd been told to go sit in the corner and play with her dollies while the grown-ups talked, as if she were a silly girl who couldn't separate emotion from reason. A woman's intuition was a powerful tool, not something to be dismissed and degraded simply for being feminine.

Her father had always claimed to value her input, and now he acted as though he'd only been humoring her.

Guy's hand squeezed hers again, this time offering reassurance rather than seeking it. They were in this together, his fingers told hers, they would find whoever was threatening their happiness and their devotion to lasting peace, and they would prevail.

At least one man at this table took her seriously.

"I understand you've been reticent to provide a list of your own suspects, Gailardia," the emperor said, "and while I admire your loyalty, I must know if there are any such cowards among my court."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Guy answered. "I'll speak with you later this evening."

"Do that. As for Malcolm Laskey, fake name or no, it's a place to start," the emperor continued. "Jade, I'd like you to coordinate with the general while we're here, if His Majesty does not object."

"I'd advise caution, Jozette," the duke added. "It's possible there is intention to implicate you as well as Guy. The colonel's theories are baseless, but that's never stopped rumors."

"Yes, your grace," she replied. "I assume I'll be asked to recuse myself anyway, but I need to offer whatever assistance I can until then."

"So long as you exercise the utmost discretion, I have no objections," the king answered. Natalia focused her eyes on Luke's water glass, too stung and stubborn to look at her father. "In the meantime, there is the matter of what to do about Rowan."

"He will have to stand trial for the charges of assault, conspiracy, and criminal impersonation," Jozette said. "Whether his willingness to cooperate and the validity of his information should allow him to be released in the interim, that is not for me to say."

"It's funny," Jade mused, though Natalia failed to see any humor, "but he may have truly believed that he was acting to protect Natalia, and therefore is confused as to why he's not being hailed as a hero." His eyes slanted toward Luke. "Impersonating you badly, you said?"

"Shut up," Luke muttered.

"We will keep Rowan in custody for now," the king decided. "Should his information lead us to this Laskey, we can take that into consideration later."

It seemed a natural end to the discussion, and as everyone began making motions to leave, the king added, "Remain a moment, Gailardia."

Natalia let go of Guy's hand to smooth her skirts as she stood. "I need some air," she said to him, again pointedly ignoring her father. "Find me in the garden when you're through?"

He nodded.

She tried to walk past her father with dignity and poise, but he stopped her. "Natalia." She contemplated her shoes, then realized she was in fact being childish, and lifted her head to meet his eyes with true dignity, not the feigned, sulky kind. "We will investigate every possibility."

"Yes, Father." He was right. They could expend all of their time and resources going after one person, risking being wrong as well as making an even greater enemy out of a high-ranking member of the Council. Or, they could follow many trails, most by default dark and meandering and ending in the middle of nowhere. Both approaches could give the true conspirator more time and an increasing sense of bravado.

Neither was a good option, and so they had little choice. He was right, but she didn't have to like it.

-x-x-x-

The vacated room was so still that Guy could hear the ice melting in his water glass.

He had not yet spent enough time alone with his almost father-in-law to be at ease in his presence. The silence could be awkward and overwhelming, and often seemed like a test. He resented it, this feeling that he was eternally having to prove himself, but there was nothing to be done for it. His position was not secure enough to go pissing off the king without good reason. Until he had good reason, Guy would not speak until spoken to.

The king was regarding him with eyes the inscrutable green of muddled glass. Guy could only look back evenly without any show of either intimidation or impatience.

When he had finished with his weighing or judging or whatever else, the king finally said, "I asked you once if you loved Natalia, and I know now that you do. Anyone only has to look at the two of you together to see it."

"She is everything to me, Your Majesty," Guy replied with quiet sincerity, not a trace of obsequiousness or flippancy. This was not the time to be charming or ingratiating. Just complete, unadorned honesty.

"Admittedly I do not know you well, Gailardia," the king continued, honoring Guy's candor with his own, "but Natalia and Luke do, and they trust you with their lives. In turn I trust their judgment. I know what you've done for them and for this world. I believe that you are committed to peace." If there was ever a time to sense a "but" coming, it was here, and Guy waited for it as helplessly as if it were dangling above him by a single thread. "But I warn you once and once only—if you are in any way responsible for any harm that comes to my precious daughter, you will be executed as a traitor, and I will wield the sword myself."

Guy did not doubt the king's words for a second, and because of that, he didn't dare joke that Luke had already called dibs.


	14. Chapter 14

How Far

Chapter 14

* * *

As a special treat and expression of gratitude to her two maids of honor—plus Jozette, who was serving as Guy's best woman—Natalia had arranged for the four of them to spend the morning indulging in a variety of spa and beauty treatments, courtesy of the best masseurs, facialists, and manicurists in the city. Body scrubs, hair wraps, nail polishing... anything they wanted was on the menu. Natalia had preselected a few of her favorites and added some new luxuries for them to try, doing this for herself as much as for them, if she were to be completely honest.

It wasn't only about looking her best for the wedding tomorrow, though that was important. After the events of the past few days, she'd wanted to have the tension kneaded from her body, the worry washed from her skin. To look and feel as radiant as she should at what was otherwise the happiest time of her life.

The combination of female company and trained hands proved most restorative. Hot jade stones had been rolled across her back, neck, and shoulders, a mask of clay and gold painted onto her face to make her glow like the blushing bride she was, and her feet were soaked in milk and honey and something secret that smelled so heavenly she thought she could float away on a sweet-scented cloud. The aromaherbalists certainly knew their trade.

Now Natalia let out a blissful sigh as she sank into the hot mineral bath, letting the water come to her chin and the ends of her hair before sitting up again to pour herself a glass of chilled sparkling water from the pitcher. Slices of orange, lime, and lemon floated among the bubbles, lending their citrusy zing to the tingly effervescence. A luncheon would be provided once all the women were ready, but in the meantime, a bit of water inside and out suited Natalia fine.

Tear slipped into the water beside her, her long hair secured with two large barrettes to hold it up and away from her face, though it couldn't all be contained. A few strands curled around her face from the steam, even as the steam seemed to drag the curl from Natalia's own hair.

Natalia tilted her head in consideration. "You have such lovely hair. Have you ever curled it?"

Tear's cheeks flushed from either the compliment or the heated pool. "No, not really, why?"

"I know we decided on pulling everyone's hair back tomorrow, but now I'm wondering if we should leave it loose and put in some nice, thick waves. It'd be quite romantic and feminine. You'd be absolutely stunning like that."

"Maybe." Two conflicting thoughts passed through Tear's eyes, one that was pleased at the idea of being stunning, and one that didn't want people staring at her any more than necessary. She'd been embarrassed at first this morning, too, when they'd disrobed to lie on the massage tables, but once the hot stones were placed in a neat row along her spine, any awkwardness and discomfort were expelled by a spontaneous moan of pleasure.

Tear shook her head a little and poured a second glass of citrus water as a distraction. "So, are you nervous about tomorrow?"

"Some, I have to admit," Natalia answered, "but mostly excited." Excited for the ceremony and the banquet and dancing, excited for her marriage and spending her life with someone she loved more than she'd ever dreamed, excited for discovering everything that meant when the pageantry was over and they could finally be alone.

But despite that excitement and the soothing water against her freshly scrubbed skin, anxiety still niggled at her. As much as she wanted to push it away, pretend it wasn't there, put it in a box in the corner of her mind and let dust collect on the top, she knew someone was still out there, plotting something they could never be completely ready for.

"I only hope the security is enough," she added. It had been doubled since yesterday, with the military joining the royal guard at its posts. Though Jozette was supposed to be on leave all week, she'd had to meet with her lieutenants this morning, making sure all orders were known before leaving her second-in-command to the minutiae of logistics.

"Would they really try something during the ceremony?"

"I don't know. I hope not." The ceremony would be closed to all but invited guests and dignitaries, but after the ceremony was the traditional carriage ride through the city. Natalia had to fight with her father to keep that tradition so her people could see their princess and their new prince. They had compromised on a shorter, more secure route, also with a larger than usual military presence. She refused to be scared away from something so many people looked forward to, one of the few aspects of a royal wedding that was meant for everyone. Natalia took a long sip of water, then held the cool glass to her flushed cheek. "How much did Luke tell you?"

Tear's blue eyes cast downward, studying her manicured nails. "The official story, and that further details are classified, which means the official story is nonsense."

Natalia nodded. Never try to fool an intelligence officer. She was impressed with Luke's discretion and insistence on following protocol—traits exalted by the Oracle Knights as well—but they both knew Tear could be trusted with the truth. "It is more complicated than that," she admitted. "At least we have a couple of leads. Whether they take us where we need to go is anyone's guess."

"I'm sorry," Tear said. "I know that's not much, but I do know how hard it is to put on your best face and carry on for the sake of everyone else."

"I know you do," Natalia said with quiet gratitude. "This is just part of what it means to live a political life—to have enemies constantly lurking in shadows. But people will always be people, won't they? Some good, some bad." Some wanted to do whatever it took to save the world, and some wanted to take whatever they could for themselves. Whatever changes they made in the world, this would always be.

"Though it's times like this I wish I wasn't the princess," she added, almost to herself. She loved being her people's princess; it was an honor she could never reject, but even so. "All I want is an ordinary wedding like any ordinary couple, none of the politics or intrigue. Just one day where all that matters is our celebration and our family and friends coming together." She tucked her damp hair behind her ear and laughed. "How selfish of me. I'm doing something I believe in, something that will be of great benefit to us all, something that will truly make me happy, and I still find something to complain about."

"It's not selfish," Tear reassured her. "It's completely understandable."

"You are too kind. And so, that's enough about me. Let's talk about you." Natalia took another sip from her glass and shot her dear friend a sly smile. This should be time for them to engage in girly chat, and she wouldn't let politics ruin their time together. "How are you enjoying staying with Luke's family? I know Aunt Susanne is thrilled to have you."

"It's nice." Tear's cheeks were rosy from the steam. "Lady Susanne has been incredibly gracious."

"It's clear she adores you," Natalia replied. "You know, after L—Asch was born, she was warned that she wasn't strong enough to bear another child, but she always longed for a daughter." Natalia had done her best to fill this role for her aunt, especially after her mother the queen had died, and Natalia had felt her own longing for that precious relationship. Now Tear would be that daughter, and rather than feel jealous as she might have a few years ago, Natalia was glad to share her family with someone who'd lost hers.

"Sometimes," Tear said quietly, setting her glass down and leaning her head against the edge of the bath, "I wonder if Luke and I should stay here. I can see how much Lady Susanne misses him, and she dotes on him completely. Sometimes I feel like I'm keeping him from her, even though going to Daath was his choice."

"You're not," Natalia said. "She does miss him, and so do I, but we want him to be happy."

"But that's not all of it," Tear continued. As she shifted her position, her long bangs came loose from their hairpin. "With the wedding talk and everything, sometimes…." She paused and let her eyes hide behind her bangs. "Sometimes I think it would be nice if we were the ones getting married. Although I wouldn't want quite this much ado about it."

"Don't worry. It won't be as bad as this when it's your turn." Natalia's tone was light and teasing, then turned serious again. "And what does Luke think?"

Tear traced a finger over the water's surface and watched the trail she made. "I haven't said anything to him. I don't want to push him." Natalia nodded but remained silent. "He's happy in the Knights," Tear said. "He's thriving there, and he's a good leader. I don't want to take him away from that. And, to be honest, I don't know if I'm ready to leave, either. It's all I've known for so long, and it still connects me to my brother, everything he stood for and wanted for me. Is that something I can throw away to become a nobleman's wife?"

"It's not something you have to decide right now," Natalia said gently, like she was coaxing a skittish rabbit to come closer. Tear was a reserved young woman and rarely talked about herself to this degree. Part of it was her personality, and part of it was that Anise was often around. They loved Anise to pieces, but she did have the tendency to suck all the oxygen out of a room. "If the two of you are happy where you are, that's the important thing. There's time for everything else later."

"It's a little scary not knowing, though, isn't it?" Tear said. "Not knowing how much time there is. I already lost him once."

"I know."

Tear looked up suddenly. "Oh!" She seemed upset with herself, abashed. "I didn't mean—"

"I know," Natalia said again. "It's all right." She'd lost him, too, and for a time it seemed like all she'd ever do is lose him, whether he didn't remember her, whether he turned out to be someone else entirely. The boy she'd loved all those years ago had changed into someone she didn't know at all, and before they could reclaim that lost time, he was gone. She'd mourned, cried, and carried on. It was all she could do.

Now she'd found someone new to love—someone old to feel a new way about—and if life didn't turn out the way she'd thought it would when she was five, eleven, or even eighteen years old, then that was all right. Yes, it was scary not knowing, not having the comfort of the Score's predictions, but it was exciting, too, to make her own choices and live her life fully.

She wanted that for everyone. It was what they had fought so hard for.

"Is this too strange for you?" Tear asked. "Me talking to you about Luke, I mean."

"It's not, I promise you," Natalia answered. Luke was his own person. Any claim Natalia had to him never really existed, and any lingering feelings she had—feelings that would always be with her, but in a warm, wistful way of remembrance—were her own to deal with, to keep close, but never to interfere. Not with her new love, and not with Luke and Tear. "I hope if you ever need to tell me anything, that you feel you can."

Tear brushed her long bangs away from her eyes, the water from her fingers and the rising steam making them cling to the side of her face. "That's good," she said, and then paused like she was gathering courage. "Because I've been wanting to tell you that—"

"You guys! You guys!" Anise's bubbly voice bounced toward them and around them, echoing off every surface in the room.

Jozette was with her, and she kept her blonde head down as she stepped into the mineral bath, looking for all the world like she wanted to disappear. Spending any length of time with Anise could do that to a person, especially one as restrained as the general. Because of her morning obligations, Jozette had arrived late for the massages and scrubs Natalia had planned. Since Anise had wanted to try everything on the list, refusing to pass up anything that included words like "pearls" or "diamonds", she'd been the one to keep Jozette company after Tear and Natalia had finished their treatments. Natalia could only imagine the unrelenting barrage of enthusiastic squee that Jozette had been subjected to.

Meanwhile, any discussion Tear had been wanting would have to wait until later. Maybe they could find a few quiet moments between lunch and their final dress fittings.

"You guys!" Anise said again as she discarded her towel with all the carelessness of a seasoned exhibitionist. She was clearly proud of the womanly body she'd waited so many years for. "Ask the general about Gascard!"

"Gascard?" Natalia repeated. The name was familiar. "The chocolatier?"

Apparently Jozette had other reasons for wanting to sink beneath the water's surface. Still, she found the means to maintain her composure, straightening her posture as a woman of her position and accomplishments should. "He's a family friend," she answered with a polite, matter-of-fact tone.

"Ooh, lucky you," Natalia said. "His chocolates are absolutely divine." A bad day could never be truly bad when one of his lavender-infused truffles was melting on her tongue. "You know, we're going to have a selection of them available at the reception tomorrow night. I think I'm looking forward to those even more than the cake."

But that didn't seem to be enough to account for Anise's excitement.

"And what else?" Anise drew out her words like a long tease.

"And as he's an old family friend," Jozette continued, her bearing only growing more rigid, "I've asked him to be my escort tomorrow. If that's all right, Your Highness," she added.

"Of course it's all right," Natalia answered sincerely, then changed her tone to something more light-hearted. "And I must insist that you call me Natalia. We're going to be family."

"Yes, Your—Natalia."

"Good." Natalia cast a glance at Anise out of the corner of her eye before sinking lower into the water and letting out a dramatic sigh. "Well, now all I can think about is chocolate."

A discreet but grateful look quickly passed over Jozette's face. "Not just the chocolate, but what about the salted caramels?"

"Oh, heavens yes, the caramels," Natalia said. "You had to mention the caramels."

"Caramels?" Tear's eyes widened, and a little hitch was in her voice. "The soft, buttery kind?"

Anise was visibly pouting as she slunk into the bath. "What the hell just happened?" she muttered. "I thought we were going to talk about men, not candy like a bunch of babies."

"And the caramels are nothing compared to the strawberries," Natalia added slyly, "dipped in dark chocolate and gold leaf."

Anise reacted exactly as Natalia hoped for. Her eyes were bigger than Tear's. "Strawberries with chocolate and _gold_? Please tell me we're having these with lunch."

Distraction had been achieved, and further gossip and speculation thwarted. As nice a time as the women had been having together, it was natural that Jozette wouldn't be completely comfortable fitting in to the familiar rhythm the other three had. This had been a good chance for them to get to know each other better, even if somewhat superficially.

Still, nothing could stop Natalia from speculating privately.

So it was Gascard—and his chocolates—who had been responsible for the sparkle in Jozette's eyes the other night. Guy hadn't said anything, so he must not know. Natalia would have to keep her end of the promise and fill him in.

Old friends. They were wonderful things, weren't they?

-x-x-x-

After dinner, Anise had tried to drag Natalia into some sort of girl's night, involving who-knew-what sort of activities. Tear had kindly stepped in and insisted that Natalia needed her rest before the big day. All eyes would be on the princess, and she needed to be refreshed, looking her absolute best; the beauty treatments would be wasted if Natalia appeared in front of her people with puffy, bloodshot eyes and splotchy cheeks.

All eyes would be on the attendants as well, Tear added, and Anise backed off immediately. She too needed to look impeccable in front of so many important people, especially if she still had plans to catch the emperor in her web.

Natalia said good night to them both with fierce hugs and exaggerated yawns.

She did need her rest, it was true. These would be her last quiet hours before all of the pageantry tomorrow. Her last chance to reflect, to remember, to dream of all that lay ahead.

But she wanted to turn in early because she hadn't finished reading Anise's book yet. She was dying to see how it ended.

The story was so over-the-top and unbelievable that she couldn't stay upset with Anise for exploiting her life like this. While she was still annoyed that her character didn't get to help Guy's fight a dragon, she was rewarded with a later adventure in which she had to rescue him from pirates.

Natalia had read over this section more than once. Guy's character had been kidnapped, roughed up, and tossed in the brig of the pirates' ship. His wrists were chained to the wall, above his head, and his shirt was torn to shreds. Smudges of dirt lined his face and chest, and sweat matted his hair. When her character found him, determination and resolve still shone in his eyes, his spirit refusing to break.

There had to be something wrong with finding this scenario so appealing. The very real circumstances of the coliseum attack had the opposite effect. She'd been terrified and angry, her heart had stopped, she hadn't been able to breathe.

The fictional danger on the page made her insides clench in a completely different way.

And oddly enough, despite the comical nature of this impossible tale, there were moments, little bits of insight, that Anise had scattered throughout the book, hidden between some of the more ridiculous events, as if they were a scavenger hunt for the reader.

Anyone reading this for the overarching romanticized relationship promised on the cover would likely miss these quieter evocations of truth. That day in the marsh, when Guy had been so kind to her, Anise had turned into a grand turning point in their relationship, and Natalia could not deny that. When Guy had offered to take her to Malkuth if she couldn't return home… even though this wasn't when she fell in love with him, as Anise presented, it was when she had stopped seeing him as he'd been and started seeing him as the friend he could be to her. Someone who cared, who looked out for her, who wanted the best for her. Who wanted her to be happy, to be safe, to stop crying and smile again because everything was going to be all right. He'd make sure of it.

While she hadn't been in love with him then, remembering it certainly made her love him even more now.

If Anise gave up her ambition of being the Fon Master or her passing fantasy of being the Empress, perhaps she had a future as a writer. Knowing Anise, she'd manage all of these things, if that was what she wanted.

Upon returning to her chambers, Natalia called for her maid to help her change out of her gown. Sera arrived quickly, but she stood before her princess with a shadow in her pale gray eyes as she worried a piece of linen in her hands.

"Your Highness, if I may speak with you a moment?" Natalia nodded an assent, and Sera continued. "One of the downstairs maids had this," she said, handing over the square bit of cloth. "She was boasting that his lordship gave it to her."

Natalia immediately recognized the gold embroidery in one corner of the handkerchief. The intricate symbol appeared on Guy's stationery, his staff's uniforms, and the medallion he often wore around his neck. The Gardios family crest.

Unbidden, the Duchess Creemore's words taunted her. _I hope he knows to be discreet_.

"I don't know whether that's true, but I'll make no accusations of thievery," Sera was saying. "I do know, as well as Your Highness does, that some of the maids have always seen Guy—I beg Your Highness's pardon, I mean to say Count Gardios, of course—as something of a challenge. With his title, he became even more of a prize."

Sera was a few years older than Natalia and had served as the princess's personal maid since Natalia was fourteen. Thus, Sera had known Guy as a fellow servant for quite a while before the truth of his circumstance was revealed. Her familiar use of his name could be excused as a rare slip, so long as she recognized and corrected this mistake.

Natalia hated to sound a snob about it, but the division between employer and staff must be maintained. Sera was a pleasant young woman, but she was not Natalia's friend. At times over the years, in the princess's travels abroad, Sera had been a good companion, but their stations were never in question.

And this was why a servant being in possession of a lord's personal token was such a serious matter. It implied a crossing of a line.

Guy had lived on the line for too long.

"If I may say, Your Highness," Sera continued, nervously brushing back her ash-colored bangs, "I also know that his lordship has always been a proper gentleman, and he would never, ever—"

"Thank you, Sera," Natalia interrupted, more harshly than Sera deserved, but Sera bowed her head in apology all the same. "I'll take care of it."


	15. Chapter 15

How Far

Chapter 15

* * *

Guy retrieved two crystal tumblers for the bottle of expensive whiskey Luke brought. This would be his last night in the guest room, his last night as a guest in his new home, his last night as Malkuth's most sought-after single nobleman.

Finally.

He poured two fingers of the amber liquid into each glass and handed one to his best man. "Got a good toast?"

Luke pondered this for a moment. "In the Knights we say, 'Here's to those who went before, protectors of the sacred Score, and to us who now rejoice, Lorelei bless our sacred choice.'"

"Kinda wordy."

"Yeah, but nice, I think."

"Then I'll take it. Cheers." He clinked his glass against Luke's, took a celebratory swig, then settled with a heavy sigh into his chair. It had been a long, long week. He wouldn't say the longest of his life, because he'd been through too much to put those events into such a frivolous context, but still. It was exhausting enough to be in the royal fishbowl, but toss in an attempt on his life, and most people would be a quivery mess by now.

Luke took the chair across from him with the chess table in between. "You know, it's not too late to change your mind and rustle up some of the guys for a proper bachelor night. I'm sure we could get Jade, Ginji, and Florian to join us for poker, at least."

Guy shook his head. "Nah, this is good. It's been a while since it's been just us. Like old times."

"You're the boss. Well, until tomorrow. Then Natalia's the boss, so good luck to you." Luke raised his glass again, this time as a sarcastic little salute. He'd obviously been spending way too much time with Jade. "It's just as well, anyway. Don't ever play poker with Florian."

"Why, did Anise teach him to cheat?"

"She did, but he doesn't even need to. He's got that face, you know?" And then Luke made a circular gesture in front of his own face in case Guy did not, in fact, know. "He's got that face, and so you think, 'Look at this sweet kid. He couldn't bluff his way out of a tree.' And I fall for it every time."

After the crack about Natalia being the boss, Guy felt no guilt about laughing. Luke never had been good at poker. If Florian had a perfect poker face, then Luke was the exact opposite. Every card was written all over him, and the more he attempted to hide it, the more he gave it away.

When they were younger, Guy had taught Luke to play cards, but he'd tried to insist that they play for fun, not money, because it felt wrong to take advantage of Luke's… transparency. Luke had turned around and insisted that they play for real money like real men, and he was the master, so what he said went.

Guy would easily double his week's wages in one game. He stopped feeling bad when, after losing his allowance, Luke would just go ask his mother for more. And Luke had nothing to spend his money on, anyway, being locked in the house. At least this made Luke feel like he was doing something; focusing on the game and swearing to win back all his lost gald was a distraction from the anger over his confinement and missing memories.

It had been a distraction from Guy's own anger, too.

Seemed like such a long time ago now.

Setting his glass down, Guy started setting up the pieces for their chess game. "Black or white?"

Luke shrugged. "It's still your night."

"I'll be white."

"Good, I wanted black."

Before the game could get underway, however, they heard conversation coming from the other side of the door. "I know that," Natalia's voice said clearly and with obvious exasperation, "but I'll just be a moment." The guard's reply was muffled, no matter how Guy tried to perk his ears. "And Luke's here isn't he? So that will do." Her tone accepted no refusal.

Sure enough, the door opened with the lack of patience Guy had come to expect when Natalia wanted her way. She was still dressed as she'd been at dinner, as was he, though he had discarded his jacket and cravat before dismissing Merton for the night. Nothing was untoward or objectionable about her calling on him.

"I need to speak with you," she said, everything about her all business. So this definitely wasn't a pleasure call.

Even Luke knew it, and he started to rise. "I'll just let you guys—"

"No, Luke, stay," she said. "You need to chaperone." She rolled her eyes at the ridiculous formality of it all. In less than twenty-four hours, none of these obsolete proprieties would need to be recognized, but until it was official, they had to act as if they had no interest in being alone together.

Luke retook his seat and pretended to be uninterested in what was about to happen.

Guy decided against saying something until she continued. For once, he had difficulty gauging her temperament. She seemed upset, but not necessarily angry, or at least, not with him. If she wasn't annoyed, it couldn't be with Luke, either, or else she wouldn't have come here in the first place.

"I believe this belongs to you," she now said, and that was when he noticed the square of white linen in her hand. With a dramatic flourish, she draped it over his whiskey glass.

It was a handkerchief, and in one corner, his family crest had been stitched in gold thread. It was his, all right, but he couldn't remember giving it to her. Natalia usually carried her own handkerchiefs.

"Okay," he answered slowly, not understanding the urgency. "Thanks."

She folded her arms beneath her breasts. "Sera gave this to me. One of the maids had it."

"Uh oh," Luke said, failing in his attempt to look like he wasn't listening.

Guy tried to think of a reason besides laundry that a maid would be in possession of one of his handkerchiefs. He guessed he could have dropped one, or…. "Oh, I remember. She was crying, so I gave it to her."

"You made a maid cry?" Luke asked. "And here you thought you weren't cut out for royal life." He held up one hand for a high-five, but the looks both Guy and Natalia shot him made him lower it again.

"She must have forgotten to put it in the laundry, or else I would have gotten it back by now," Guy said. Eliza was turning out to be a pretty inefficient maid, but he couldn't help feeling sorry for her. He remembered some of the maids in Luke's house came there when they had nowhere else to go, maybe because their families had died in the war like his had, or because their fathers were cruel to them, and he was sure Eliza had a similar story. It was sadly all too common, and he wouldn't have her fired and put out on the street over a couple of innocuous mistakes.

Natalia's expression softened slightly. "You are too kind for your own good sometimes, you know." Her arms and her tone likewise uncrossed. "You also know how this looks, and you know better than anyone that servants talk."

He felt stupid for not thinking of that. Servants passed the time gossiping. Some of the stories were true, some were speculation, most of them colorful and dramatic. It made the daily drudgery more bearable.

"All it takes is a rumor," she continued. "A rumor can become gospel before you know it. You are chivalrous to a fault, Guy, and I love that about you, but you must be careful."

"You're right," he said. As a rumor became gospel, so could a handkerchief become a token, a signal, evidence of inappropriate attentions. It would take nothing for his innocent gesture to be misconstrued. "I'm sorry."

"Man, someone's really going to a lot of trouble to make Natalia doubt you," Luke said, interjecting himself into their business once more. "First dredging up the old revenge story, now planting your handkerchief in a maid's room."

"What are you talking about?" Natalia asked.

"Yeah, weren't you listening?" Guy added. "No one planted it. I gave it to her."

"Oh." Luke scratched his nose and frowned with confusion. "Huh. Thought I had something there."

Natalia made a little huff of annoyance, and her bangs fluttered from the puff of air. Guy tried to bite back a grin; she might not appreciate her irritation being found cute. "Anyway, I suppose I should leave before I'm scandalized any further for being in your room after dark." She overemphasized the word "scandalized" the same way she had said "chaperone" earlier.

"We could turn on all the lights. Get a few dozen candles." He raised his eyebrows, and that finally got a giggle out of her.

"Yes, because insufficient illumination is the issue here."

"It's a serious problem. You should have someone get on that. We don't want you bumping into things."

"I'll make it my first priority tomorrow, should nothing more pressing be on the agenda." Now that her posture had relaxed and her exasperation had been replaced with amusement, she started to bend down to him with twinkling eyes and a promise-filled smile. Then, remembering their audience, she slanted her eyes at her cousin. "Luke, could you…?" She twirled her finger in a quick circle.

"Sorry, I'm the chaperone." Luke leaned back in his chair and waited.

Her shoulders stiffened again, but not to be completely thwarted, she proceeded to grace her fiancé's cheek with a chaste brush of her lips.

Guy, however, was just about finished with all this nonsense, and he took her chin in his hand to bring her mouth to his. If Luke wanted to watch, let him.

He tugged lightly at her lips, flicked his tongue over them while remaining properly outside, and her fingers brushed against his cheek just as her mouth had. He could feel she wanted more, as he did, but somehow he was able to leave it there.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she whispered in the space between them.

He nodded. "I'll be the good-looking one standing up front."

"That's funny, so will I," she answered, then kissed him one last time, which almost broke him. He clutched the arm of his chair with white knuckles to keep from grabbing her and pulling her onto his lap. "Good night. Again." She straightened, regal as ever, and cast a wry glance at their ineffectual chaperone. "Good night, Luke," she said sweetly, waggling her fingers in parting as she walked away.

When she was gone, Guy snatched the handkerchief from his whiskey glass and knocked back half of the contents in one gulp.

"Geez, you guys are nauseating," Luke griped. "How do you stand it?"

Guy focused his attention on the chessboard instead of the closed door and moved his starting pawn two squares forward, gripping the rounded top of the helpless piece a little harder than necessary. "A lot of cold showers," he answered.

Luke grimaced like he'd bitten into something rancid. "Ugh, dude, it's Natalia."

"Yep."

"So, I take it that means you guys haven't..." In the awkwardness of the pause, Luke moved his own starting pawn forward and pretended to be interested in a painting of a vase of violets on the wall. "… haven't... you know... yet?"

"Nope." Guy picked up his knight pawn and jabbed it toward his opponent to punctuate each of his next words. "I am being honorable."

"And how's that working out for you?"

"It sucks."

Luke, like any good best friend should do, laughed at Guy's frustration.

Being honorable was what he should be, yeah, and it was almost bearable given that he only had to suffer for one more night, but there were times when honor had been the furthest thing from his mind. That day last week, under the tree, with the exhilaration of their ride and being together again, he'd been tempted to do more than kiss her. If they hadn't been interrupted, he wasn't sure when he would have stopped. Natalia had made no indication that she wanted to stop, either. How much more of her skin would he have tasted, how many more of her moans would have echoed in his ears and made him—

Continuing to think about this was a bad, bad idea. He took another swig of whiskey and waited for Luke's move. Like in poker, Luke was a careless, overeager chess player, making grand moves and going on the offense right away instead of taking a more measured approach. Being aggressive was one thing; aggression without strategy was the quickest path to defeat.

As perfect illustration, Luke moved his knight forward, nodded with approval at this brilliant tact, then took a tiny sip from his own glass. He wasn't much of a drinker, but he'd insisted that having whiskey together was a best-man-and-groom kind of thing to do. "Then I guess as best man, I'm supposed to give you a pep talk for the big night, huh?"

"Oh, man, please don't." Guy still hadn't recovered from his other pep talks. And Jade had obviously just been making stuff up, he was pretty sure. There were physical limits to how much a human body could bend. "Besides, isn't there some saying about the blind leading the blind?"

"Yeah, but they also say that in the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king." Luke let that sit for a second before adding, "And I happen to have two eyes."

Guy was considering his next move and how it would affect his strategy down the line, so it was another second before Luke's meaning hit. He looked up and met those two eyes. Luke's arms were folded, and he looked back, completely calm and serious. "Shut up," Guy said.

"You shut up."

"You're like five years old. How did you get laid before me?"

"Hey, some guys got it, some guys don't."

"Tear?"

"Who else?"

"She wouldn't."

"Would. Did. Has." Luke mockingly punctuated each word with his bishop before returning it to the board and capturing Guy's pawn. It was a good strategy, both for the game and distracting Guy from the conversation, because Guy wasn't sure what to do with this information. He was impressed. And stunned. And kind of weirded out. It was like finding this stuff out about your little brother and sister—sure, at some point it was bound to happen, but you wanted to pretend it didn't.

Luke took Guy's silence as an opportunity to explain. Not that that was Guy's reason for being silent. "It was when I first got back," he said, raking a hand through his hair and glancing away, the bravado replaced with a younger air of sheepishness. "We hadn't seen each other in two years, you know? And so..." He cleared his throat and looked back again. "Anyway, then I joined the Knights, and they have rules about that kind of thing, and, well, you know Tear. She's a stickler." He rolled his eyes, but he couldn't keep a note of fondness from creeping into his voice. "So I feel you on the honorable thing. It _sucks_."

"Yeah." And at least Guy's waiting would be over tomorrow. Maybe it wasn't so bad after all, not knowing what they'd been denying themselves. Instead of thinking of it as denial, he should view it as anticipation. They had good reasons for waiting—honor, propriety, tradition, expectations, lack of any damn privacy—and the anticipation would just make it that much better, right?

Nah, it still sucked.

While Guy made his next move, Luke took another sip of whiskey and grimaced as it covered his tongue. It was a good blend with a smoky, burnt caramel flavor, but definitely an acquired taste. "My mother wants us to get married, you know," Luke added. "She hasn't said anything, but I can tell."

"Pretty sure that's illegal, not to mention creepy."

The face Luke made this time had nothing to do with the drink. "How did you know you wanted to marry Natalia?" he continued, and Guy stopped grinning at his stupid joke. Luke was being serious, and he'd respect that. "And none of this 'because she asked me' stuff. I mean, when were you really, really sure?"

Usually he would give a flippant or charming answer like that, but if this was something Luke was thinking about, Guy would answer candidly. And when he came up with the answer, he wondered why it took him so long to admit that he was in love with her. In hindsight it was completely obvious. "After we got engaged and I'd been back in Grand Chokmah for a couple of weeks, I'd had a long day in the House of Lords. It's a bunch of old men with old ideas, and trying to argue for a new way of doing things is like banging my head against the wall sometimes." Natalia might call her Council the "grumpy old men", but he had stronger words for the moldering political relics that musted up the Imperial Court. "I was tired, and I was frustrated, and I came home to an empty house, and I just... I wished she was there. I needed to see her and talk to her." He'd sat down and written her a long letter, pouring out everything that pissed him off about these men who were still clinging to the past instead of embracing the challenges and possibilities of a new world, because he knew she would understand.

When he received her reply, she'd extended her sympathy and related her own difficulties, and she'd reminded him that as a team, they'd have the strength to enact real change. Her encouragement got him through the next session. "Before, I had lots of good reasons for marrying her," he continued aloud for Luke's benefit, and Luke was nodding thoughtfully. "But that's when I knew I had the right reason. I was always willing to stand by her side, but I need to have her by mine."

Luke swirled the whiskey in his glass and stared into it as if an answer would appear in the amber. "I get that," he said, shifting in his chair, like talking about feelings made him even more uncomfortable than talking about sex. "And I'm happier with her than without her. She makes me better, I know she does." He continued looking for the answer in his glass, but was shaking his head. "I'm with her all the time, but sometimes it doesn't feel like enough." He took a bolder sip of whiskey, managing to avoid making a face like a little kid. "Maybe that sounds dumb or selfish or something, like it's all about me."

"It should be about you," Guy answered honestly. So much had been expected of Luke for so long, and when he was younger he'd had such an entitled swagger about him that now he felt guilty for thinking of himself too much, for wanting something for himself, for even the appearance of disrespecting the sacrifices others had made for him. "It's about both of you, and it's okay to want to make a change. And it's okay to not be ready, too."

"I want what's best for her, too, you know? More than I want anything for me, even."

"Yeah, I know what you mean."

"Yeah." Luke raked his hand through his hair and let out a self-deprecating chuckle. "Man, and here I was accusing you guys of being nauseating."

"Don't worry, I think we're still way ahead of you." Guy retrieved the whiskey bottle and topped off both of their glasses. This would have to be it, though. Natalia would never forgive them if they showed up for the ceremony bleary and hung over. And as long as this week had been, tomorrow was going to be an exceedingly long day. "So…" he continued, raising his glass to his lips with nonchalance, "out of respect for Tear I won't ask for details, but… how was it?"

Luke shrugged with equal nonchalance as he concentrated on moving his bishop forward and capturing another of Guy's pawns, but when he looked up again, one corner of his mouth was raised in a satisfied smirk.

"I hate you." As Guy said this, he finally noticed that Luke had been matching him move for move throughout their game. "And when the hell did you get so good at chess?"


	16. Chapter 16

How Far

Chapter 16

* * *

For most weddings throughout the ages, the act of getting hitched went off, well, without a hitch, as it were. Despite this, nearly every bride woke up on the morning of her own wedding with a knot of dread in her stomach, certain that things were destined to go wrong. That the flowers would clash with the attendants' gowns, the best man would lose the ring, the groom would have ice for feet, or that the top tier of the cake would slide to the floor in a carnage of buttercream and porcelain that used to resemble the happy couple.

More rare were fears of an unknown enemy lurking in the shadows, a false name and a paid assailant the only clues, pitiful and, thus far, leading nowhere.

But Natalia held her head up high as she sat before the mirror. The chapel's resting room was serving as a bridal suite for her and the other attendants, but it was a flurry of activity rather than rest as gowns were buttoned, jewelry fastened, and cosmetics applied. She closed her eyes for a moment and let the flurry calm her. Too much else was going on to let unhappy thoughts spoil the day she'd dreamed of for as long as she could remember.

Natalia would put her gown on last; she had already donned her wedding lingerie and white silk stockings, then covered herself with a robe so that Sera could see to her hair and make-up. Her face had been powdered, her lips and cheeks rouged, and her eyes lined to accentuate their green. With yesterday's manicure, her fingernails had been coated with a glossy lacquer so that they shimmered like mother of pearl.

Now Sera was brushing and pinning back the princess's blonde locks. As short as Natalia always insisted on keeping her hair, likewise did Sera always insist that there was enough to pin, and she was right, of course. Sera was a genius with hair, parting, wrapping, and twisting before applying those hidden pins, and Natalia was pleased with the result, particularly the delicate sweeping braid that rolled under in the back. A few loose tendrils curled like ribbon on either side of her face, as romantic and untamable as the bride herself.

While Sera put the finishing touches on her intricate work, Natalia looked past her reflection in the mirror to see the other women in their gowns. Instead of the burgundy she'd originally pictured, she'd fallen in love with a bolt of scarlet fabric in Louise's workroom. The rich, jewel-toned shade complemented both Tear and Anise's brunette coloring and Jozette's paler blonde beauty. The three matching dresses featured a portrait neckline to mimic the bare-shouldered style of Natalia's gown, with a bit of lace masquerading as sleeves. There was a slight pleating at the narrow waist where the skirt then fell softly to the tops of their feet, giving just a peek at their glittering shoes beneath.

On the settee behind them were four boxes of flowers, freshly cut from the royal gardens. A bouquet of velvety red amaryllis was bound with a white ribbon, and three smaller but equally beautiful bouquets of white amaryllis were tied with scarlet ribbons, the fabric cut from the same bolt as the gowns.

Everything looked perfect. Everything would be perfect. Natalia took in a cleansing breath and recalled her grandmother's wisdom. _If you end the day married to the one you love, then it was a perfect wedding._

"Ooh, how much longer is it going to be?" Anise whined like a sugar-fueled child waiting for the circus to begin. "I can't take the excitement anymore!" Even dressed elegantly for her adult role in a sober ceremony, she couldn't help bouncing in her diamond heels and swishing her skirt around.

With hair and make-up finished and her platinum tiara carefully secured, Natalia shed her robe and prepared to step into the gown that Sera and Tear were holding for her. "Just wait until it's your turn," she said to her young friend, "and the time flies by so quickly that you wonder if you remembered to get everything done." Had it only been last month that she sailed to Grand Chokmah, vexed at her father and the Council for forcing the marriage issue, desperate to have Guy agree because she felt she had no other choice?

Perhaps she should thank those grumpy old men. Silently. If they began to believe that they knew better than she… well, that would not do.

Anise stood on her toes and raised curved arms above her head like a ballerina. "I love this dress," she said, ignoring Natalia's point entirely. She let out a little shiver of pleasure as the silk crepe skirt continued caressing her skin. "I'm never taking it off. I'm sleeping in it tonight."

"You'll trip over it without the shoes," Tear said. She straightened the skirt of Natalia's gown as Sera began doing up the many pearl buttons.

"I'm sleeping in the shoes, too."

"I didn't expect you to be one to sleep," Jozette added. With their spa morning and luncheon yesterday, she'd learned the other women's tricks for enduring Anise's energy with humor. "I'd think you'd want to stay up all night dancing."

"Oh, I'm doing that, don't worry," Anise replied. "This is my first royal wedding. I'm not missing any of it."

"By the way, Anise, I've finished your book," Natalia said, standing as still as possible while Sera continued moving up the long line of buttons. Once this dress was on, it would have to stay on until she changed for the reception banquet. Louise had designed a similar yet simpler white lace gown for the evening, one that would be more comfortable for sitting and dancing.

"Did you?" Anise said with blithe nonchalance.

"And I've decided to forgive you."

Anise grinned. "It was the pirate chapter, wasn't it?"

"However," Natalia stressed, "know that this does not mean I will condone any future exploitation of my person or my relationship for your financial or entertainment purposes."

"Definitely the pirate chapter. I knew you'd like that."

"That was the best part," Tear mused, then immediately glanced down, sheepish that she'd said such aloud.

Natalia would have narrowed her eyes if she hadn't been worried about ruining the liner. "You knew about this?"

"Not at first," Tear explained. She went to touch her own carefully coiffed hair before pulling her hand back, afraid of disturbing the six-petalled diamond comb holding the twist in place, and forgetting that many pins did the heavy lifting while the comb was purely decorative. "But Luke was bored on the ferry, so Anise gave us a copy. We took turns reading to each other." Now instead of her nervous habit of fiddling with her hair, one corner of Tear's mouth quirked as Luke's often would, that cozy way couples had of picking up each other's mannerisms. "He does a really good impression of you."

Anise's matching comb glinted just like her eyes. "Don't be modest, Tear. Yours isn't shabby, either."

"Though Guy's is the best," Tear replied. Natalia was no longer sure where the joke began and ended.

"Well, naturally, he's known her the longest," Anise conceded with a shrug.

"Next you'll be telling me the colonel is an expert mimic as well." Natalia said. Was she not entitled to a modicum of respect on her wedding day?

"Oh, I forgot about him," Tear said.

"We should have a contest," Anise added.

All right, so perhaps Natalia wanted to laugh at the idea, but once she started, giddiness would take over and she'd lose her tenuous grasp on her composure. Laughter and tears would become indistinguishable. Still, this information would be filed away for later.

The buttons were all snug in their homes, and after helping Natalia raise her skirts so she could step into her shoes, Sera was at last able to attach the long veil to Natalia's tiara. The teasing came to a halt as the maid arranged the lace across the bride's bare shoulders.

"Oh, Natalia," Tear said, bringing a hand to her mouth.

Natalia felt her composure slip, but she held on fast. This would be a busy day; even happy tears would need to wait.

"You are absolutely breathtaking," Jozette told her.

"Divine," Anise sighed, sincere and without a hint of envy.

With these dear ladies surrounding her, supporting her on this important day, Natalia had never felt so grateful. Yet, somewhere deep inside her, she missed her mother something fierce. She would not let it show, would not let it make her smiling lips tremble.

And then there was a knock on the outer door. One of the maids answered, and Natalia heard Luke say, "I'm here to collect the general. Is everyone ready?"

"This way, please, my lord."

The maid showed Luke into the dressing suite, his stride lazy despite his task. His short hair was as neatly combed as Natalia had ever seen, and he was striking in his double-breasted red coat with its platinum buttons and white trim.

Today was determined to dismantle her poise.

He stopped in front of her, his casual air vanishing, and a wave of something washed over her. Something like memory or nostalgia or wistfulness, and at the same time none of those things. Scenes of another life, playing out before her in the space of a heartbeat, images of little red-haired, green-eyed children, their gruff but doting father, the coronation of a stoic and noble king.

Luke's eyes changed, the subtle way they did when he was overwhelmed by feelings or memories that weren't his, and she knew those scenes were not a complete invention. In another time, they created them together; on another plane, they shared them still.

It would have been a lovely life.

Luke blinked, and his eyes were his own once more, clear and bright. "Wow," was all he said.

She smiled at the tremendous compliment and all the layers behind it. "Thank you, Luke."

He gave her an awkward half-smile in return, then jerked a thumb at Anise. "Who's that?"

Anise crossed her arms over her elegant gown and stood taller in her heels. "Ha ha, you are so hi_lar_ious, Luke."

He ignored her offense at his joke and focused his attention on Tear. Natalia watched as his eyes changed in a different, softer way, this time looking at Tear the way Guy looked at her. "Hey," he said in a low voice, "don't you know you're not supposed to be prettier than the bride?"

Natalia let her skirts and train rustle as she walked over to Jozette in order to obscure Tear's reply. It was as close to privacy as she could give them in this room. "Thank you for putting up with us," she said to the older woman. "I know how much it means to Guy to have you stand up for him today."

"I'm honored to be included," Jozette replied. "And... this week has been good for me, too. I think I needed to be reminded that..." Her words trailed off, and for a moment she fell captive to her own reverie before continuing in a strong, unwavering voice. "That no matter how many times our world shatters, there will always be someone to help us put it back together again. There is always hope."

"Yes, it's true, isn't it?" Natalia answered. The two women shared so much in common, loss and broken dreams, and they'd both found a way to move forward, to make new dreams. "That's what today is all about. Hope."

Those who had tried to prevent this day had failed. Her people would have hope.

"And so I want to thank you for believing in us," Jozette said, eyes unlike her cousin's in color but with that same unmistakable determination. "Because of you, one day the Cecilles will be remembered more for their triumphs than their disgrace."

"That's due to you and Guy more than me," Natalia corrected her. She reached for Jozette's hand and clasped it tightly. Though surprised, Jozette returned the clasp with great warmth. "I will be proud to call the Cecilles my family."

Jozette nodded. "Thank you." Then she smiled, a rare gesture that brought that sparkle to her eyes again. "Natalia."

After one last squeeze, Natalia released the other woman's hand so that Jozette could retrieve her bouquet. Across the way, Luke and Tear were finishing their own conversation, their heads close together, voices a pleasant murmur. Anise was admiring herself in the mirrors, turning this way and that to inspect every angle, watching the light catch the diamonds of her hair comb, delighting in the back-and-forth sway of her gown like a little girl instead of the sophisticated adult she so desperately wanted everyone to see.

Tear's lips moved with unheard words, but Anise had the ears of a predatory animal who feasted on secrets instead of flesh. "I love you, too, Luke," she cooed. Tear blushed beneath her rouge.

"Oh, yes, I love you, too, Luke," Natalia said.

The scarlet motif was complete as Luke's cheeks matched his coat and his hair. "Yeah, yeah," he said with a careless wave of his hand, "all the ladies love me." Speaking as he walked, his last word and last step brought him in front of Jozette.

She allowed a perfect beat of silence to elapse before saying, "I think you're very nice."

He stared at her a moment, then broke into a broad grin. "High praise from the general. I'll take it." He bowed slightly and offered her his arm. "Let's go make sure Guy hasn't run off. There's a lot of people waiting out there." She shifted her bouquet to the other side to tuck her hand in the crook of his elbow, and Luke cocked an eyebrow at Natalia. "Last chance if you want to make a break for it."

Natalia shook her head. "Tell him I say hello."

He raised two fingers to his temple in acknowledgment and escorted Jozette from the room.

This was it. It was time. The next they talked, she'd be married.

"Are you ready?" Tear said. She and Anise collected their white bouquets from the settee.

Natalia left hers in its box. "Almost." She took the hands of her dear friends in each of hers. "I'm so glad to have you girls with me today," she said, and she blinked hard. "You are my sisters, and I wouldn't want to do this without you. I love you both so much."

Tear's blue eyes misted. "We love you, too," she replied in a thick voice.

Anise sniffled. "Dammit, if you wenches make me ruin my make-up, I swear I will kick your asses. Don't think I can't do it in these shoes."

-x-x-x-

Guy was doing his best not to pace in the maestro's office where he was told to wait. Too much movement would result in sweat, which would cause wrinkles, Merton said. Screw wrinkles. Guy wanted to get on with things. He was never very good at standing around.

He also wasn't very good at keeping his hands still. It took every bit of concentration to keep his fists clenched at his sides instead of shoving through his hair. Merton had spent a lot of time wetting and combing it and trying to get it to lay flat. Guy didn't want it slicked completely back like Luke's, because then he wouldn't look like himself, but he also couldn't look like he just rolled out of bed. He had to look worthy of marrying the princess.

All in all, he seemed to be pulling that off. His hair was about as tamed as it was willing to be, and Merton had shaved him so closely that he probably wouldn't need another shave for a week. A single hair could be split down the middle with the crease in his trousers, and his white double-breasted coat fit like a glove—if a glove were meant to fit like a coat—with two lines of perfect platinum buttons and trimmed with rich scarlet, an inverse of Luke's coat. Though he'd sent his measurements from Grand Chokmah, Natalia had wanted the tailoring to be just right and supervised his fitting earlier this week—which was unfair, he thought, as he didn't get to sit in on her fittings. She also insisted on doing the detail work herself, dedicating her impressive embroidery skills to the coat's cuffs and collar, and her talent showed in each intricate stitch of platinum thread.

His hands unclenched, and he ran his fingers over the looping design at his wrist, representing eternity. Tracing the pattern had a calming effect, but it was sure to pass before long. Maybe he could ruffle his hair just a little, not enough for anyone to notice, but it was just so damn neat that it was starting to itch.

"Hey, your bride says hi," Luke said, and Guy dropped his hands like a child caught sneaking sweets before dinner. With Luke was Jozette in her red dress, her hair twisted in a low knot and secured with a diamond comb shaped like a flower.

"I can't believe everyone's seen her but me," Guy said. They'd not been allowed to see each other since last night, even taking separate breakfasts in their own rooms this morning. It had been surprisingly lonely. "How does she look?"

"Not bad," Luke replied with a shrug. "You know, for Natalia."

"I think you'll be pleased," Jozette added.

"If she's half as beautiful as you, I'll be the luckiest one in the room," Guy said, and his cousin looked equal parts embarrassed and flattered. But her beauty was more than the hair and gown and expensive jewelry. He saw what Natalia had been seeing, that Jozette glowed, that she seemed truly happy for the first time since Aslan died. It was about time; Aslan had wanted her to find happiness again. "By the way, Natalia said I'm supposed to ask you something about chocolate?"

"Later, Gailardia," she said in a mock-stern voice reminiscent of his sister. "Let's get you married first."

"Putting me off, huh? That means it must be good." His tone changed from teasing to sincere. "Thanks for being here, Jo."

"I wouldn't miss it," she replied. "After all, who would have thought that that spoiled little crybaby I once met—"

"Hey, you're the one who ate all my candy, remember?" he protested, and Luke snickered.

"—would one day grow up to be a prince?" Her mocking tone now changed, too, to something warmer. "Your family would be so proud."

He hoped so. After the loss and tragedy, that he had served those who had been their enemies, then found a way to forgive and mend, standing up for the truth and what was right, working together to prevent such a thing ever happening to anyone else... he wanted them to look down on this day and be proud.

He cleared the lump in his throat. "But seriously, Jo, what is it with you and candy?"

Her glare had absolutely no fire behind it, and he laughed.

The cantor came in and cast a disapproving look at the gaiety in the office. Right, this was a serious day. No laughing allowed. "My lords, my lady, when you're ready?"

Whether they were ready didn't seem to matter, as the organ was already playing, but Guy nodded. Luke clapped him on the back, and Jozette gave his hair a quick tousle.

"There, that's better," she said.

"You're my favorite cousin," he replied.

They followed the cantor into the main chapel where Maestro Pernoud was waiting. Flowers... flowers were everywhere, red and white in large silver vases to match Natalia's chosen colors; Pere would probably know what they were all called. The Kimlascan flag was draped on one side, and the Malkuth flag on the other, coexisting in international harmony. At intervals along the sides of the room, guards and soldiers were posted.

And then there was the sea of people filling the chapel. It was an overwhelming sight, and Guy felt the weight of what they were doing, what his life would be with so many people watching and depending on them.

He tried to break the crowd down into familiar faces for comfort. In the second row sat the emperor—who winked at him, which was disconcerting rather than comforting—with Jade, Nephry, and her husband. Behind them were Pere and his aunt Jacqueline, Jozette's mother. Scattered about in further rows were Anise's parents and Florian, Ginji and Noelle and Aston from Sheridan, Tear's grandfather Teodoro, various nobles and mayors and other officials, members of the Royal Council and the Imperial Court.

There was a noticeable difference in the two sides of the chapel. The first row on the bride's side contained Natalia's family. After escorting her down the aisle, her father would join her grandmother and Luke's parents. But the first row on the groom's side was empty.

This had also been Natalia's idea. "I believe we would dishonor your parents and sister if we were to allow anyone else to sit in their row," she'd said.

He'd expressed skepticism. "Our wedding is enough of a political statement as it is," he'd said. "Do we want to bring up exactly why my family isn't here?"

"If we were an ordinary couple getting married, it would be perfectly appropriate to remember them in this way," she'd answered.

Seeing it now, he knew she was right. He closed his eyes and felt their presence, their memory.

The organist transitioned to a light melody as Tear and Anise came down the aisle together in their matching gowns. Another unintentional political statement, Guy realized. The crown princess of Kimlasca-Lanvaldear had chosen a woman from Hod and one from Daath as her maids of honor, while the count from Malkuth had two Kimlascan attendants. They were an international group, forming a family beyond blood or borders.

Anise was doing her best to take her role seriously, but she beamed at those she recognized, waggling her fingers in little waves at Florian and her parents and, more flirtatiously, at Emperor Peony. Beside her, Tear was both lovely and uncomfortable at having so many eyes on her, so she kept her gaze focused on Luke.

When Guy glanced at Luke, Luke was likewise focused on Tear, with something like wonder coming over his face. Maybe it wouldn't be so long for the two of them after all.

The two girls took their places and turned to face the back of the chapel, and the assembled guests rose as the organist's fanciful playing gave way to the opening notes of "As Morning Comes Natalia", the anthem written for the princess's coming of age ceremony.

The king was regal in his red robes and crown, but Guy barely registered his presence. Everything and everyone else faded. All he saw was Natalia, clutching a bouquet of red amaryllis and draped in white lace, a halation surrounding her like the sun. As morning came Natalia into her people's lives; their princess was the bright light that brought them hope and joy and the promise of a new day.

So came she into his life. Pictures flipped through his mind like a kineograph, a little girl with hands on her hips ordering him to fetch her a book or a cup of tea and mocking him for his fear of touching her, the young woman apologizing for the wrongs she and her family had done to him and grieving with him over the losses of their friends, talking with him against the blurred colors of a sunset and laughing with him, standing close to him, being with him.

And he'd gone from a boy hating everything she stood for to a man standing for it with her. Standing here, waiting for her.

She was so beautiful he couldn't breathe.

Her smile was as radiant as the rest of her as her father escorted her to the front of the chapel. Guy found himself grinning stupidly, then bit the inside of his cheek to appear properly solemn so that the king would not whip around and march his daughter right back out again.

The grin could not be stopped and kept twitching his lips, but the king brought Natalia to him all the same. Natalia embraced her father lightly and nodded at something he whispered to her. The king paused, looked at his daughter, and nodded back, holding her hand, before turning to Guy.

Guy quickly wiped the grin from his face once more.

"Gailardia."

He bowed. "Your Majesty."

The king acknowledged this with a subtle tilt of his head, paused again, and placed his daughter's hand in Guy's. After another nod at the maestro, the king then took his place beside Natalia's grandmother. She and Lady Susanne were dabbing at their eyes with pretty handkerchiefs.

Natalia's hand was warm, and Guy could feel it trembling with a mix of emotions. The same powerful cocktail was swirling within him, and he squeezed her hand as he leaned close. Her shoulders were bare above her lace sleeves and bodice, and he fought an urge to sink his teeth into her luminous skin, choosing to speak softly into her ear instead. "Hey."

She giggled, her eyes shining. "Hi."

"Nice dress."

The last chords of the anthem faded, and the maestro gestured for the guests to be seated. "In the names of Lorelei and Yulia," Pernoud began, "and with the blessing of His Majesty King Ingobert the Sixth, I welcome you all." The timbre in his voice reflected the eons of history, the many who had served the Order from the beginning, as if everything had the purpose of leading to this moment. "Any wedding is a glorious occasion and cause for celebration as two people dedicate their lives to each other," he continued, "but today we are honored to witness not only a union of two people and two families, but of two nations."

It really did sound daunting, didn't it? But with the strong woman beside him, he was up to any task.

"Before you stand Natalia, crown princess of Kimlasca-Lanvaldear, and Gailardia, Count Gardios of Malkuth, who have chosen to commit themselves to the world as well as to each other. Their belief in peace has brought us here today, and through them we shall see change. Prosperity will no longer be an intangible dream but a way of life for all."

There were still those who did not like the words "change" or "choose", but those naysayers were a minority, growing smaller by the day. When Guy faced his bride to look into her eyes, he knew they would succeed. This path was theirs, one they would carve, one that would benefit everyone.

And so no Score would be read during their ceremony. His parents had a marriage Score, as had her parents the king and queen, and Badaq and Sylvia. But for Guy and Natalia, there was no prophesy of the life they would lead, the children they would have, not even the certainty that such was written anywhere. The unknown stretched before them, and they would face it together.

Personally, he couldn't wait.

They were to take each other's hands at the maestro's instruction, and Natalia passed her flowers to Tear. "Your Highness, if you will repeat after me," Pernoud said, and she nodded. "I, Natalia..."

The words came as easily as her name, and her hazel eyes were stunningly green as they looked into his. "I, Natalia," she repeated, her voice ringing like a bell through the chapel, "hereby pledge myself to you, Gailardia. I give you my love, my friendship, my respect, and my fidelity." Her hands clasped his between them as if to transmit the vows directly from her body, her soul, to his. "I give you my good days and bad days, my laughter and tears, my dreams and my fears. I give you my hands to hold, my shoulders to share your burdens, and my heart to make your home."

And now the words traveled back to her through the connection no one could ever break. "I, Gailardia," he repeated after the maestro, "hereby pledge myself to you, Natalia. I give you my love, my friendship, my respect, and my fidelity." He could hear his own voice echoing in the vast room, but as far as he was concerned, only the two of them existed. "I give you my good days and bad days, my laughter and tears, my dreams and my fears." He again remembered his parents, their marriage also one of political purpose, and how, in the end, they had lived the true meaning of these words. "I give you my hands to hold, my shoulders to share your burdens, and my heart to make your home."

Even without a Score reading, the ceremony continued with the traditional wedding prayer and story of Yulia, something Guy had heard before and would have recognized if he weren't completely lost in the woman before him. All the weeks of planning and waiting had been for a ceremony that was already half over. He wanted to take in the way she looked right now, memorize everything, the light in her eyes, the warmth of her hands in his, the glinting of her tiara and the delicacy of the romantic lace veil that draped behind her, the ethereal white gown designed just for this day that would soon be removed, never to be worn again.

If he hadn't been allowed to attend her dress fittings, maybe he could be there when she took it off.

"Some call them symbols," the maestro was saying, and Guy snapped his attention back to the present. "To others, they are talismans. With the exchange of rings, these vows become visible and undeniable."

At this cue, Natalia turned to Tear, and Guy turned to Luke. Luke pressed Natalia's ring into Guy's hand, a flicker of relief on his face that he didn't mess up his one important role.

"And, Your Highness, if you will once again repeat after me," the maestro said.

They had chosen a pair of simple platinum bands, unadorned except for the engraving Guy had secretly requested for hers. Natalia slid the ring onto his third finger as she repeated the words like a spell. "Endless as my love and eternal as my vow, may this ring be ever with you."

Guy placed the matching ring on Natalia's left hand, its inscribed promise safe against her skin, and repeated the same words when prompted. "Endless as my love and eternal as my vow, may this ring be ever with you."

Her fingers curled around his, and he wanted to pull her to him. One more second and he could, one more second and she would be his to hold whenever he wanted.

"These vows made today are sacred and cannot be broken," the maestro said in conclusion. "With the blessing of the Reformed Order of Lorelei and the authority of the kingdom of Kimlasca-Lanvaldear, forevermore shall you be husband and wife."

That was good enough for him. His hands went to her waist, feeling for the shape of her beneath the silk, and he touched his lips to hers. She kissed him back, laying her hands on either side of his face, and he realized he was wrong—he didn't want to pull her to him; he wanted to pull her inside him. Somehow the gentlemanly part of him remained in control and kept the kiss sweet and chaste for their audience, and beyond the demands of his body for more, he heard the maestro pronounce, "Their Royal Highnesses, Princess Natalia and Prince Gailardia."

There was applause and cheering and Luke's shrill whistle, and Guy pressed his forehead to Natalia's. "What have you gotten me into?" he whispered.

His wife laughed and kissed him again.


End file.
